Altered Fates
by Orange Lantern Tsume
Summary: (WIP) AU. What if the X-Men & Brotherhood had recruited different members? What if Xavier was keeping a dangerous secret? What if Jean wasn't who she thought she was? Answers inside.
1. Starting Formation

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Hope everyone likes this fic!  
  
NOTE: I am working on a TON of fics right now, so don't rush me!  
  
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Chapter 1: Starting Formation  
  
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At Bayville High, things were getting interesting. The principal, Ms. Darkhölme, was paying close attention to several students attending her school, namely Scott Summers, Jean Grey, and Todd Tolansky. The third was beginning to act weird in public, and rumors were floating around that he was responsible for "sliming" the guys' locker room. Principal Darkhölme took a lot of pleasure in talking to her employer about these three, although he was interested only in Tolansky, nicknamed the Toad.  
  
Not far away, on the other side of Bayville, sitting right by the water, was the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Its headmaster, Professor Charles Xavier, was a renowned genetics expert. Not very many people knew what went on inside that place, not even Duncan Mathews, who was "dating" Jean Grey, the girl who attended the Institute.  
  
Principal Darkhölme was a patient woman when she could be, and needed to be. She decided it was best to take an active hand in the matter she sensed was arising. She made a few calls to some friends overseas and arranged for an "associate" of hers to come to Bayville and help find out what was within the walls of the Xavier Institute.  
  
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Scott Summers walked down the halls of Bayville High, heading to his locker so that he could get his books for the next few classes. The crowd that filled the passage began draining away, and he was thankful. Bayville wasn't too big, but the population could be lower. The banter died down as the crowd of students flowed elsewhere, heading for lunch, which Scott was planning on doing.  
  
"'Sup, Summers?" a nasal voice asked, and Scott was about to turn when Todd Tolansky leaped up onto the to of the row of lockers, crouched like his namesake and gazing down at Scott.  
  
"Hello, Todd," he greeted neutrally. After glancing around, he said, "That was quite a jump. You should try out for field and track sometime." He opened his locker, put in his books, and took a brown paper bag out.  
  
Todd snorted. "Sure. But I bet you know how I did it."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Todd's tongue shot out and snagged Scott's lunch, pulling it into his mouth. Todd hopped down onto the floor, his back to Scott, and turned himself around without getting up from his crouch.  
  
"I mean we both got special abilities. I saw what those crazy eyes of yours did to Mathews and everything that beam ran into during the game. The Toad can't shoot lasers from his eyes, but he can hop and slime."  
  
"Whatever you say, Todd. Why the sudden interest in me?"  
  
Todd grinned. "Guys like us need to stick together, know what I mean? Besides, I always wanted to be part of the cool crowd, and everyone says you're there."  
  
Scott shrugged. "I wouldn't know."  
  
"Give me a ring sometime, Summers," Todd said before hopping off.  
  
Scott headed immediately for the phone after the other boy had gone, and dialed the Institute's number. On the other end, Professor Xavier was watching Todd on a view screen in his study, using Cerebro to track the boy through the use of his mutant powers. Opening up a line, Xavier greeted Scott by name.  
  
"Jeez, Professor, it always creeps me out when you do that."  
  
"Sorry, Scott. I was just observing our young friend Todd using Cerebro here. It seems that he indeed has the x-factor."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
"I believe he may be of use to us."  
  
"I don't exactly know about that. He has the personal hygiene of a dead pig, Professor."  
  
"Scott, you know that we cannot turn anyone away," Xavier said sternly.  
  
Scott sighed before responding. "I know. It's just the reputation he's got around here isn't too good."  
  
"Perhaps finding some friends will help him?" Xavier suggested.  
  
"Maybe. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Have Jean and yourself speak with the boy. Talk him into coming over and I myself will hold a discussion with him. Hopefully, I can persuade him to see our way of things."  
  
"Hopefully."  
  
"Have a good lunch," Xavier said before hanging up.  
  
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Jean was leaving Geometry when Scott approached her with Xavier's orders. The redhead was slightly surprised, but not at the request entirely.  
  
"I just don't really see why I have to come along," she told Scott. "You're the one he was talking to. You should do it. I'm only the irresistible redhead."  
  
"Don't remind me," Scott groaned. "The Professor just wants to speak with Todd about joining the team and all that stuff. Hopefully he will, because I don't fancy having him as an enemy. He could be a tough little bugger."  
  
"And that's part of his problem," Jean said. "He's been made fun of so much he'll have a load of trouble seeing any good in other people."  
  
"Yeah, and I better tell that to the Professor, in case he might need to tell Todd why he should try to forgive people for their ignorance."  
  
"That's very sweet of you, Scott," Jean smiled easily. "And now we part."  
  
Scott blinked. "Why?"  
  
"Because this is the girls' lavatory."  
  
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Todd was sliming the teachers' cars when Jean and Scott approached him. He looked up from where he was crouching behind the principal's Oldsmobile, about to put some green onto the license plate, but didn't just yet.  
  
"Hey, Shades," he said. "You think 'bout what I said?"  
  
"Yep, and I was hoping we could ask you to do the same for us," Scott replied.  
  
Todd blinked. "Say what?"  
  
"Scott and I were hoping you would come to the Institute and talk with the headmaster there, Professor Xavier. He himself is hoping to speak with you, Todd," Jean told the diminutive mutant.  
  
Todd blinked again. "Why?"  
  
"He didn't really tell us, but he'll probably tell you."  
  
Todd thought about the offer. This Xavier guy sounded high and mighty, but since Todd was hoping to be with the In Crowd, and Scott---not to mention a chick like Jean---he considered his options carefully. He wasn't the smartest kid there was, but he knew some stuff. If he got to be with the cool guys by going to an exclusive institute for the smart, people might start talking about how smart and cool he must be.  
  
"All right," Todd agreed, holding out a hand to shake. "You got yourself a deal."  
  
"Great," Scott smiled as he shook.  
  
"We'll pick you up at the end of school, and you can leave when we're all done," Jean said.  
  
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Raven Darkhölme waited patiently for the train to pull in. She knew who was on it, and what to do when they arrived. Her employer wanted her to provide him with a soldier, but for Raven, someone very close to her was arriving in Bayville.  
  
With a metal screech, the train pulled into the station, and its doors parted to release the passengers within. Raven scanned the crowd for a single person, and spotted them after a moment. Dressed in a large black cloak, the hood up, the figure made its way to her as she did the same.  
  
Raven led the figure out of the station and over to a limousine. The driver put the luggage the figure had brought into the trunk as Raven and the figure got in. As they pulled away, Raven nodded to her associate, who raised very odd-looking hands and pulled down the hood.  
  
A youth, he was covered with a coat of fine blue fur, with pointed ears and golden eyes. His hair was a midnight blue, darker than his fur, and he basically looked like a furry blue demon, a fuzzy imp of sorts. Raven changed back into her regular self, the white dress and skull belt, the red hair and the white eyes with barely-visible pupils, the look completed by her own blue skin.  
  
"Welcome to Bayville, Kurt," she said to the youth.  
  
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They arrived at the boarding house later, and Raven told the driver to leave and that she would carry the luggage in. He shrugged and did as told, and when he had gone, she morphed into a muscled wrestler, hefting the luggage into the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House. Kurt obediently followed like the good son that he had been raised to be.  
  
Raven led him to his room and put his bags there, not sorting and storing items but instead leading him back downstairs and into the living room.  
  
Where a mystery man awaited them both.  
  
Garbed in a red and purple helmet that seemed like it belonged to a gladiator, the rest of his costume blocked from view by a long purple cape, the man introduced himself with a tone of total confidence and authority.  
  
"I am Magneto," he said in his baritone and rolling voice.  
  
"He's going to be your leader, Kurt," Raven said. "Magneto, this is my son, Kurt Wagner. You can call him Nightcrawler."  
  
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, young man," Magneto said politely. "I hope you become one of our greatest members."  
  
"Will there be more?" Kurt asked  
  
"Hopefully, yes," Magneto answered. "After all, we are not just A brotherhood, we are THE Brotherhood."  
  
"And now, son, we have a special task for you," Raven said.  
  
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Todd stepped out of the doorway and into one of the numerous hallways of the Xavier Institute. He wasn't wearing the street clothes he usually dressed in, but was instead wearing a uniform: Mainly green with sections of beige plastic composite to act as body armor, and some parts with black, he was looking stylish.  
  
"The Toad's in the house, yo!" he called as he used his leaping ability to launch himself through the air and onto the banister, which he slid down like a skateboarder would, landing easily on the floor and striking a pose.  
  
"Man, this place is pretty good for that stuff," Toad observed. "Maybe I SHOULD hang around and practice my crazy-mad skills. Could help with the chicks."  
  
Inspired by that thought, Toad started to leap around, enjoying himself immensely.  
  
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Blending in with the darkness, Nightcrawler made his way over the wall that blocked off the Xavier Institute. He crept through the trees and shrubbery that surrounded the mansion, being careful to keep from sight.  
  
Inside the Institute, Ororo Munroe was watering plants in the highest room the mansion had. She usually went there for solitude, but was actually waiting for the Professor to tell her when to greet the other new mutant. Of course, "greet" was hardly the right word, compared to what she was going to do to the boy.  
  
'Ororo,' Xavier's mental voice came in her mind. 'He's approaching. Go and bring him in, would you?'  
  
'It would be my pleasure, Charles,' Storm said as she set down the watering bucket and opened a window, flying out. The winds carried her aloft, and she flew through the air with little effort. As high up as she was, it took only a moment to spot the youth making his stealthy way to the Institute, especially when bolts of lightning lit up the darkness.  
  
Reaching out with her power, Storm picked up the winds' pace, beginning to blow the boy straight at his target. Forced along, Nightcrawler tried to resist and move at his own speed, but a sizzling lightning bolt made him jump.  
  
"Is she nuts?" he asked himself, pretty much knowing the answer.  
  
A second bolt made him jump as he had a moment before, and his other power activated. Nightcrawler teleported forward, higher up, and the winds threw him at a set of doors. He hit and they gave, the winds blowing him inside the Institute and knocking him into someone. The winds died down finally, and he rubbed his head as he got up into a crouch.  
  
"Get off, would ya?" asked a nasal whine, and Nightcrawler looked at the owner. The other pushed them apart, and they began circling each other, Nightcrawler's imp tail weaving.  
  
"Who are you, blue-boy?" the green-garbed, greasy kid asked Nightcrawler.  
  
"The name's Nightcrawler," Kurt grounded out harshly through his fangs (AN: Yes, he does have fangs, even in Mainstream). "And at least I don't smell like unwashed lederhosen."  
  
"You blue-furred freakish jerk!" the other snarled, leaping at Nightcrawler. But the German mutant teleported, and Toad caught nothing but a small cloud of smoke that smelled of brimstone and sulfur. "Where are you?" he demanded.  
  
"Up here, egghead!" Nightcrawler laughed from his perch on the chandelier high overhead. "As you Americans say, 'Nener, nener, nener!'"  
  
Toad got mad again and leapt, incredibly, all the way up to Nightcrawler, who only teleported again.  
  
"Down here, little man!" Kurt called with a sneer.  
  
Roaring, Toad leapt at him yet again, and this time, they began to chase each other throughout the mansion.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Storm landed inside, closing the doors that she had blown Nightcrawler through. When she had done this, she turned to find Xavier rolling toward her.  
  
"Good work, Storm," Xavier thanked her. "Hopefully, the boy will also join us. But somehow, I sense he might---has already chosen---otherwise."  
  
"Let us pray he is not already set against us, Charles," Storm said gravelly.  
  
From overhead they heard the sounds of angry shouting and things breaking. Looking up, they saw Nightcrawler and Toad leaping from wall to wall, chasing each other relentlessly. The German teleported onto the chandelier again, and Toad perched atop the banister head, ready to attack.  
  
"I think," Xavier said loudly, getting their attention, "that we have determined that both of you have the x-factor. He may, as Todd has, join us---if he so desires."  
  
"You have to be kidding!" Toad snapped. "Recruit this jerk! He said I smelled!"  
  
"And you do," Nightcrawler said simply, as if that fixed everything.  
  
Enraged, Toad leapt with unexpected suddenness, catching Kurt by surprise and grabbing firmly onto him. Kurt teleported, and they both vanished with a bamf.  
  
"Where did they go?" Storm asked.  
  
Xavier put his hands to his temples and searched with his mind, finding them. He found Jean and Scott, and filled them in on the situation.  
  
"Charles?" Storm asked.  
  
"They're in the Danger Room," Xavier replied, moving toward the elevator.  
  
"The Danger Room has automated defenses!" Storm gasped. "They could be killed!"  
  
"That's why we must reach them swiftly."  
  
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Toad groaned, rubbing the sore part of his skull. Beside him, Nightcrawler did the same while looking around.  
  
"Where are we?" he asked, his German accent thickening from his surprise.  
  
Abruptly, sections of the wall opened up, and laser cannons---"What the hell?"---aimed at them, and fired.  
  
"Run!" Toad screamed. Both he and Nightcrawler began jumping about wildly, dodging the laser fire as best they could. "I'm gonna die!" Toad began shouting over and over, as though it were a mantra.  
  
Nightcrawler, though, kept his cool and expertly made his way toward a single cannon, paying attention to the way it swiveled, and where it could not aim. He noticed the wires in the back and, as he leapt onto the cannon, he reached down and jerked the wires loose before teleporting away to avoid any repercussions.  
  
Toad, however, was merely avoiding death for as long as possible.  
  
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Cyclops and Jean Grey opened up the doors to the Danger Room, rushing in to stop anyone from dying.  
  
Using his optic blasts, Cyclops blew apart cannon after cannon, while Jean formed a telekinetic bubble around herself and Toad, keeping them both safe.  
  
"Don't let me die!" Toad begged Jean.  
  
"Just trust me!" she yelled over the weapons' fire.  
  
Cyclops blew apart the last of the cannons and looked at Nightcrawler, who seemed rather angry at being helped.  
  
"You need to be careful when you're in the Danger Room, hence the name," Cyclops told the German.  
  
But this only seemed to anger Kurt. He teleported away without another word, and Scott felt his heart drop a little from the loss of a possible friend and ally.  
  
"Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm sorry!" Todd was crying.  
  
Jean knelt next to him, a hand on his shoulder. "Todd," she said softly, "it's okay. You're fine."  
  
He stopped crying and looked around before sighing heavily in relief. He hugged her abruptly. "Thank you!"  
  
"Uh, okay," Jean said blankly.  
  
Xavier and Storm entered then.  
  
"Scott, Jean, Todd, thank heavens you are all right!" Ororo said, deeply relieved.  
  
"I could say the same thing," Xavier agreed. "After we finish checking you three for any injuries, perhaps we could discuss this all. Kurt doesn't have to be an enemy."  
  
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In the Brotherhood house, Mystique was sitting patiently in the living room, awaiting her son's return. With a bamf and a cloud of smoke, he appeared in the center of the room, looking taxed.  
  
"What's wrong, Kurt?" she asked, moving to his side and keeping surprisingly calm.  
  
"Them," Kurt rasped out, breathing heavily. "I had to jump around like a damn monkey to keep from being killed by the laser cannons they have in there!" He balled up a fist and punched the floor. "I HATE monkeys!"  
  
Mystique patted her son on the back. "There, there, Kurt. We'll have better luck next time."  
  
Kurt looked at his mother, the dark emotions draining from his eyes. He could never hold onto his darker side when he was around his mother. Slowly, he hugged her, glad for the company.  
  
And she was right: They would have better luck next time.  
  
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AUTHOR: Hope everyone actually liked this!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	2. Second Chance

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing!  
  
TO Sandoz: Hopefully, I will work on the Raven-Kurt relationship; I honestly don't know.  
  
TO The Son of Logan and Ororo: The "reversed" fic I will write later, which as a full AU. And I switch way more than just "two" rivals.  
  
TO Yma: To answer your questions, reread chapter 1 carefully, and it should be obvious.  
  
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Chapter 2: Second Chance  
  
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In Northbrook, Katherine Pryde was being hurt, and deeply. Even she didn't know what happened to her now was going to shape her future in ways she couldn't imagine. Riley Chase and her doting cohort, Amy Hannigan, who had been friends to each other and nothing short of total bullies to Kitty, hit the girl again.  
  
As the punch connected, Kitty's head snapped around, her face smacking into the concrete side of the school. She had already been taking a beating for at least ten full minutes, and this caused her to black out.  
  
"Oh, look, the Kitty Cat's been pooped out," Riley sneered.  
  
"Think we should keep going, Riley?" Amy asked.  
  
"Nah," the other girl smirked, hauling back and hitting the crumpled Pryde again.  
  
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It was a couple hours later when Kitty trudged through her front door like a zombie, wracked with pain and with blood and bruises to show on her usually pretty face. Her clothes had also been stained, but the biggest stain was on her spirit.  
  
Amy and Riley had made life a living hell for Kitty ever since the young Pryde girl could remember. She hated the two, and had tirelessly tried to stop them one way or another, but to no avail. The teachers turned their noses at Kitty's pleas, and her parents' pleas too, and the cops didn't find anything wrong. It was times like these that made Kitty glad she knew how to use all kinds of foul language from TV and movies and whatnot. It let her vent her emotions all the better.  
  
"Kitty, my God, what happened to you?" Terri Pryde asked, alarmed, hurrying to Kitty and checking the marks from the beating. She was genuinely shocked. "Was it those two girls again?"  
  
"They're not girls, Mom," Kitty said. "They're bitches."  
  
"Kitty!"  
  
"What?" Kitty snapped, moving away from her mother, her anger flaring, and she started shouting. "What? I have fucking had it with those two, okay? I know you don't want me to, but I swear that I'm going to use the moves Dad made me learn!"  
  
"Kitty, stop, I forbid you---!" Terri said, but Kitty wouldn't stop.  
  
"Shut the hell up, woman!" she snapped at her mother. "I didn't become a friggin' ninja for nothing! I can defend myself from bitches like those, and I will!"  
  
Without another word, Kitty spun on heel and stormed downstairs to the basement---or, at least she TRIED to. Halfway to the basement door, she suddenly sunk through the floor, her anger blowing away like so much dust in a gust of wind.  
  
"What---Mom, help!" she screamed. Terri had frozen when her daughter began sinking through the floor, but now acted. Rushing over, she dropped to her knees and tried to pull Kitty back up, but her hands passed right through the girl. With a final scream, Kitty vanished.  
  
"Kitty...God, please no..." was all Terri Pryde could rasp out.  
  
Until she heard the screaming coming from the basement.  
  
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Professor Charles Xavier came up to Jean Grey's door and politely knocked. It took her a moment to answer, but she opened the door and smiled weakly at him.  
  
"Professor," she said as she rubbed her forehead with one hand.  
  
"Jean, are you all right?" he asked, concerned.  
  
"Just a headache," she said. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I was hoping you would accompany me to Northbrook, which isn't very far from here. I plan on going tomorrow."  
  
"But, Professor, I have an exam tomorrow," Jean said, and her headache doubled. She fought the pain to a manageable level. "Why don't you choose Todd; he never takes the exams anyway."  
  
"He does now, I'm afraid. Ororo and Logan have been doing everything in their power to teach him to earn better grades."  
  
"Scott?" Jean prompted.  
  
"He needs to average out a few things."  
  
Jean scowled. "And me, being Miss Perfect, can suffer one exam."  
  
Xavier chuckled. "Something like that."  
  
"Fine," Jean conceded. "I'll go when you need me."  
  
"It will only be for the day, I'm sure."  
  
"Right," Jean nodded, closing the door, her headache threatening to become a migraine.  
  
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Lance Alvers slammed a fist against the locker, actually denting it, but not caring. He had been trying to put some effort into school, despite his horrible grades, and had just received his report for the week.  
  
Basically, he was still failing almost every subject, except for English, which he actually seemed good at---he managed to get a D- instead of an F. Lance felt a small swell of pride at that personal accomplishment.  
  
But still...  
  
Things were flat lining for him, and he knew it. Being in a foster home, living with people who were bigger losers than they claimed he was, meant that they generally didn't give a rat's ass about his grades. Parents cared about grades; losers didn't. And no matter how hard he tried, he would never escape being an academic loser.  
  
'There go your dreams, rock star,' his mind said sadistically. He punched the locker again and stormed out of school, heading for his foster home. When he arrived there, he didn't bother being subtle as he entered, letting the doors slam as he made his way to his room. Slumping down in his chair, he began stringing a tune from Metallica's "Enter Sandman," one of his favorite songs.  
  
"Quiet, boy!" the foster parent, Mrs. Baxter (AN: Thanks, Sandoz) bellowed from her bedroom.  
  
Lance didn't pay attention, consciously ignoring her as he continued to practice his skills. He wanted to be a guitar player when he grew up, but with his lousy grades, he would probably get a job as a guitar stringer, or maybe as the guy who put the guitars on their little stands before the concerts started.  
  
That would really suck.  
  
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At her home, Kitty Pryde let herself relax. She needed to concentrate to the max, and just let things come naturally. Her mother had rescued her from any real harm after Kitty sank through the floor. She had landed in the basement, screaming her head off, until the older woman had given her a slap to snap her out of it.  
  
Now, after eating dinner, Kitty was practicing her fighting techniques. Her father had insisted she learn to defend herself, and karate was "too damn clichéd" to be any good for his girl. Somehow, he had found a dojo that taught ninjitsu (AN: Spelling? Mine won't work), and Kitty had been taking lessons since she was four.  
  
Her lessons had covered all ranges of things, from hand-to-hand combat to using weapons. Kitty had excelled in using a Bo staff, nunchuks (AN: Sp?), a katana, and using sai. She loved the last one, because she enjoyed twirling the triple-pronged, stylized knives. It made her feel like she was some sort of supreme warrior.  
  
She twirled them for a second, just to practice, crossing them in circular patterns, which were very dangerous unless you knew exactly what the heck you were doing. Abruptly, she broke the activity, whirling around and stabbing with a sai.  
  
A sandbag that had dropped down while she had been in mid-whirl was punctured, and she retracted the weapon, weaving in and out, up and down, side to side, as she slashed and stabbed, spinning and kicking, even performing some back flips and whatnot. If one didn't know, one could mistake Kitty for a harmless child. But she was a real killer if she tried.  
  
She stopped instantly, and let the sand pour through the holes she made in the bags, gathering in "puddles" on the ground. Spinning, she threw both sai at one particular bag, the deadly weapons spearing through the pictures of Riley Chase and Amy Hannigan. Kitty had developed, early into her training, an inhuman accuracy, a "bull's-eye" ability that gave her perfect aim.  
  
Kitty had no trouble that, if she wanted to, she could become a very successful assassin. (AN: Sorry if that sounds like I love Kitty too much, but I am still psyched after seeing "Daredevil," and that drove me wild with Bullseye and Elektra. Besides, Kitty IS a ninja.)  
  
Gathering up her weapons, Kitty ignored the mess and went to get in the shower before going to bed.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The next day, Professor Xavier and Jean Grey took out the Blackbird. He was piloting, as Jean was suffering yet another headache, despite her attempts at using pain relievers of all brands.  
  
"Jean, perhaps you should have a check-up?" Xavier asked. "These headaches of yours are becoming worse."  
  
"I'll be fine," she said. "I just need to relax."  
  
Xavier nodded, feeling his gut knot tightly. The girl was important, of course, but not just to the team. She was a person, and very special. He felt awkward being with her like this, although he wasn't sure why, because he had been alone with her before.  
  
'It has to be the mission,' he thought, making sure she wasn't picking up his thoughts. Yesterday, a second mutant had been detected in Northbrook, a young girl named Katherine Pryde. Xavier had examined her grades and saw that she was an upstanding student, with no disciplinary actions against her, a model student of sorts.  
  
With this information in mind, Xavier had planned to visit the Prydes later. He was sure their daughter would come to the Institute of her own volition, because she was a respectable person, with little trouble in life.  
  
Lance Alvers, though, was a danger to himself without help. Xavier was going to have to see the boy's foster parent first, before he went to the Prydes. Lance had a whole rap sheet of school offenses, and very bad grades. It was a telltale sign of a person about to crash and burn. He needed to be reached, and fast.  
  
The Blackbird made it to Northbrook after a while, and Jean and Xavier disembarked from the jet.  
  
"I'll head to Mr. Alvers' residence, while you find the Prydes," he told Jean, who nodded, looking better. He assumed her headache was going away.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
It was time for Gym class, and Kitty reached it. She had easily avoided running into Riley and Amy, because she had learned their patterns after spending so long being harassed by those two losers.  
  
Running up to the coach, she got her assignment.  
  
"Since you're the last one here, you go first, Pryde," the woman said stiffly. "Long jump."  
  
"Right," Kitty nodded, and, although it didn't look like it, she took in her surroundings as she turned to walk to the end of the running strip. Riley and Amy were only about a dozen yards away, easy targets. She could kill them, but chose not to.  
  
She took off, and reached the end of the strip with long, graceful strides, jumping easily. She had been holding back all year, and only now began using her real strength. She covered at least four times the distance she normally did, stunning the coach and her two enemies.  
  
"Good work, Pryde," the teacher said, impressed. "You should consider trying for track and field. I'm sure Mr. Gellner wouldn't mind coaching someone with that kind of skill."  
  
"It doesn't have anything to do with skill," Kitty said shortly. "It has to do with revenge."  
  
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Lance Alvers whistled in astonishment. He had been watching Kitty as she performed her feat, and had to admit that he was amazed. He had seen her jump before, and always witnessed her falling on her face and scraping her skin. He had always felt sorry for her, but he himself was no star athlete.  
  
Lance watched as Kitty stormed off from Gym, heading to the school's auditorium. He rose and followed, hoping to talk to her about why she was suddenly so good. He was going to at least give her his humble opinion: That she made his jaw drop after watching her year-long track record of sucking at the long jump. Hopefully, she wouldn't break his face.  
  
Before he reached the doors, a redhead entered after Kitty, apparently also after her. Lance frowned. This, if Kitty was lucky, wasn't another one of Riley's goons. That little megalomaniac needed to learn her place. Lance would gladly teach her, but only under fair rules, which Riley never played by, and he would only turn her over to Kitty, no one else.  
  
Cracking his knuckles, he followed the redhead.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Kitty entered the auditorium, striding down the aisle and onto the stage. She sneered as she picked up the fruit bowl with its wax fruit. Tossing it into the air, she did a spin kick and smacked the bowl across the stage and into a prop wall. Kitty stood there, seething inwardly for a moment, before someone got her attention.  
  
"Who got you so angry?" a girl asked, and Kitty turned to see who it was.  
  
The stranger, definitely not from Bayville, approached the stage. She had waist-length red hair and wore a shirt that was a very faint pink, with beige cargo pants and Vans sneakers. Kitty looked her over carefully.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked.  
  
"I just want to know what's wrong, Kitty," the redhead answered.  
  
"Who told you name?"  
  
"I looked it up with my professor. I was hoping he could talk to you about your powers."  
  
Kitty frowned. "Powers?"  
  
"You were detected yesterday when your mutant powers activated. Our computer system identified you and we came here to talk to you about learning to use your abilities for good."  
  
Kitty snorted derisively. "You don't know how corny that sounds. 'Use your abilities for good'? That line is right from every B-movie ever made."  
  
"I know it sounds that way, but this is very important."  
  
"What's important is standing up for myself," Kitty snapped. "I've had to take abuse for years, and now that I finally can do something about it, you go and say I shouldn't. Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not your kid, or your friend, or your peer! I'm whoever I want to be, and you don't have any damn say in what I do with my alleged powers, which I don't even NEED!"  
  
"Okay, Kitty, there's no need to get angry," Jean said, her headache starting to swell again.  
  
"It's a little late for that, Red," Kitty growled as she stormed off. Jean moved to follow her, but somebody grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. It was a young man---Lance Alvers!  
  
"Listen, Red, you might as well back off," he warned. "Kitty needs real help, and softies like you won't give it to her."  
  
Indignant, Jean said, "I'm trying to help her by getting her to not use her powers for personal gain!"  
  
"Sometimes personal gain is all you can do," Lance said.  
  
"No, it's not. Kitty is angry over taking abuse from people---"  
  
"Yeah, and I know more about this topic than you ever will. Kitty's had to put up with Riley and her little gang for years. She's lucky she isn't dead!"  
  
"But if Kitty lashes out, Riley and her friends could be!" Jean said, her headache still growing.  
  
"I doubt anyone will miss them," Lance said coldly.  
  
"Think about what you're saying for a minute!" Jean snapped. "You're actually supporting possible murder! Do you really want that hanging over your head?"  
  
The small smirk on Lance's face vanished, and he looked at that floor. "Not really, no."  
  
"Listen, you need to help me calm Kitty down before she hurts someone, including herself."  
  
Lance snorted. "You have to be kidding me. Kitty's got more than just a jumping ability."  
  
"I saw that, and I doubt it's her mutant power."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Will you just help me?" Jean hissed, her head about to crack from the migraine that had just occurred.  
  
"Yeah. A good girl like Kitty doesn't need to kill people just to solve their problems, I guess."  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Kitty knew exactly which car was Riley's. The girl had been driving underage for a while now, and no one knew about it, or, if they did know, they didn't care. She strode up to the cherry Mercedes and slid a sai from her sleeve, stabbing it into the tires one by one.  
  
"Pryde, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Riley's voice demanded from behind.  
  
Turning around, Kitty saw Riley and Amy storming toward her, but remained calm. She slid the second sai out, not letting them see either one.  
  
"That isn't going to be cheap, Pryde!" Riley growled. "You'll be paying for my new tires!"  
  
"Make me," Kitty said, not impressed in the least.  
  
Riley's face contorted with rage just as she lunged for Kitty, but the latter merely sidestepped the assault, bringing her sai up and slicing a flesh wound across Riley's midriff.  
  
"What the hell?" Riley gaped. "Are you nuts, Pryde?"  
  
"Are you a sadistic bitch?" Kitty asked, sounding bored. She had hoped kicking her tormentor's ass would be more fun.  
  
"You think this is a joke?" Riley demanded.  
  
"No. I think it's the part where I get my revenge."  
  
Kitty drew back both sai, planning to make Riley lose her hands, when someone interfered.  
  
"Kitty, stop!" yelled Jean as she and Lance raced towards the trio.  
  
"Looks like you're busted, Kitty Cat," Amy sneered.  
  
Kitty cracked the blunt end of her sai against Amy's face, knocking out a couple of teeth and sending blood onto the pavement. Riley turned tail and ran for it, leaving her friend. Kitty ignored this all and stared darkly at Jean and Lance.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked. "I'm trying to settle a debt here."  
  
"Kitty, you don't need to do this," Jean said, wincing slightly from yet another headache.  
  
"What, you think just because you don't have the guts to stand up for yourself, that I shouldn't?" Kitty snarled.  
  
"Kitty, come on," Lance said. "Riley is trash, but you shouldn't bother touching it. No one does."  
  
"After what they did to me, I can and will touch that trash!" Kitty snapped.  
  
"Kitty, just calm down," Jean said.  
  
But Kitty had had enough. Twirling them once, she flung her sai at the pair, the killing tools moving with lightning speed at perfect accuracy. Jean put up a telekinetic shield, blocking herself and Lance. He freaked a little from the sudden attack, and his power caused a ripple in the ground around them.  
  
As the parking lot turned into a waterbed, one of Kitty's sai struck a certain spot on a car, causing a spark to ignite and an explosion to occur. Everyone was blown aside, and when Jean and Lance got up, Kitty was gone.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
As she raced through the small forest around Northbrook High, Kitty made sure she wasn't being followed. Those two idiots nearly cost her everything!  
  
'Why can't I ever get even with people?' she thought sourly. 'It's like they just won't be a good person and pay for what they did!'  
  
After running for a while, she paused to take a breather. That redhead bimbo would probably tell the cops about her, so Kitty was in deep trouble. She couldn't go home now, and school sucked so bad she never wanted to go back.  
  
"Hello, Kitty," a woman's voice said.  
  
Spinning, Kitty got herself into a fighting stance as a woman in a white dress---with blue skin---stepped into view.  
  
"Who are you?" Kitty demanded.  
  
"A friend, just like him," the other said, pointing over Kitty's shoulder. Turning again, Kitty saw the crouching figure out what seemed to be a fuzzy blue elf. She had to admit that he looked rather hot, with the blue and everything.  
  
"I've come to offer you a place with us, Kitty," the woman said. "My son Kurt here is already in our group. You can be too, if you choose so. But this is a one-time deal only. I know all about Riley and Amy, Kitty. We're not against getting even with people that more than deserve it. The Nazis paid for what they did to the Jewish, didn't they? The same thing can be said for your case."  
  
"What do I have to do?" Kitty asked, relaxing. This was going to be fun.  
  
"I'll tell you, my little Shadowcat," Mystique said as she began to laugh.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Lance groaned, waking up in some sort of jet. He stood up from his bed and looked around.  
  
"Careful," Jean said. "You got a good punch of that explosion."  
  
"Kitty?"  
  
"She was gone when I came to," Jean said. "I'm sorry for that. She was a good girl."  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"En route to Bayville, Mr. Alvers," Xavier called from the pilot's seat. "We already discussed everything with your foster parent. She has consented to release you to our care. And, might I add, that after displaying what you did, the decisions you made, you are more than qualified to be with our group."  
  
"What group?" Lance asked, confused.  
  
"The X-Men," Jean said. "I myself am a member. We're basically the good guys."  
  
"Relax, Lance, and wait until we reach the Institute before we tell you the whole story," Xavier said.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: That was actually longer than the last chapter!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	3. Wild Card

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran  

AUTHOR: Thanks for the reviews!  

TO The Scribe: You just gave me some very wonderful ideas.  

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Chapter 3: Wild Card 

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While the X-Men were busy leaving Northbrook with their newest recruit, Raven Darkhölme was busy solidifying her story to her own recruit's parents.  The Pryde adults were very worried for their daughter, their oh-so-precious only child, when she had fallen through the floor the day her powers activated.  Mystique decided to use their fears to her advantage in this case.  After all, the same had been done to herself when she had Kurt: She couldn't abandon her motherly instincts and leave her son out of her life, but she also couldn't let Magneto have him as a slave.  

Shifting into her principal's attire, Raven Darkhölme wrapped on the door of the Pryde residence, and prepared herself.  Kitty was standing next to her, playing the part of the innocent girl who had just been scarred for life.  It was going to be a slice of cake once Raven started talking.  

The door swung open, and the parents, their expressions all too priceless, were revealed.  When the door had opened, both Prydes wore identical looks of fear of receiving the worst news regarding their daughter; that, however, instantly changed when they saw Kitty, breaking into deep relief.  The whole family shared a group hug, but naturally left the principal out of it---family only.  

When they had sat down in the living room, Raven began her little speech.  

"Mister and Mrs. Pryde, I'll try not to waste your time."  

"Could you just tell us what happened at school---that is, if you know?" Terri asked.  

"Certainly: A fight broke out between a couple of bullies and your daughter---"  

"Wait a minute," Carmen cut in.  "Riley and Amy?  They were involved again?"  

Raven shook her head.  "No, I was referring to Jean Grey and Lance Alvers.  The boy was tricked, I'm sure, as he lacks proper knowledge of the girl.  Anyway, Miss Grey instigated a fight with your daughter, in which she tried to seriously injure Kitty."  

The Prydes were, to say the very least, shocked and appalled.  

"Kitty, though, managed to survive through use of her phasing powers and ran into a figure, namely myself.  I was already looking for her, to talk with her about using her powers correctly, when we crossed paths.  I brought her here, in the hopes that you would let her move to Bayville with me."  

"Move to Bayville?" Carmen repeated.  "But what about school?" 

"She can be enrolled there, dear," Terri said sharply.  "What I'm worried about is whether it's a smart decision at all."  

"I assure you that it is," Raven said.  "Kitty is very gifted, not just because she is a mutant, but also because of her naturally high intellect.  She could excel at Bayville, which would be free of figures like Riley and Amy, and she would also be under my protective watch."  

"How so?" Carmen asked.  

"I am the principal of Bayville High, to be honest."  

"But are you sure she'd be safe?" Terri asked.  

Raven smiled triumphantly.  "I guarantee it."  

***********************************************************************

The following day, Mystique had to make special arrangements for her two soldiers.  She had confirmed the location of a very powerful future ally, and she had sent Kitty and Kurt to go and fetch the dear.  

That done, she listened to a message that her friend Irene left for her while she had been away.  Her heart had stopped when Irene had mentioned that Rogue's powers had activated.  Raven slammed a hand down on the table in frustration.  Why did the girl's powers have to awaken at a time like this?  

She was still asking herself the same question when she got into the limo after landing in Mississippi.  Irene was already inside, waiting to begin discussing the girl.  Raven took her seat and got comfortable.  

"Well, where is she?" the principal asked the seer curtly.  

"Nice to see you as well, old friend," Irene said dryly.  "Why don't we start by asking questions that are really important, such as what side Rogue will end up on?"  

"I know she'll be on our side, Destiny," Raven growled.  "I know that girl."  

"But not well enough.  You see her as a rational person, but she's going out of her mind with terror because of her abilities manifesting themselves.  She is confused and afraid, and has no idea what to do."  

"Then I'll find her and tell her what to do."  

"It won't be that simple, Raven.  Rogue's future doesn't she her immediate loyalty to us."  

Raven's eyes narrowed.  "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"  

"It means that she will go through a different series of events before coming to us."  

"I can still try and prove you wrong."  

"By all means, try," the seer chuckled.  

"I already have two recruits of my own, and a third is on the way."  

**********************************************************************

Elsewhere, Kitty and Kurt were getting busy.  Meadowfield Psychiatric Asylum was a very dreary place, although very clean and modern.  Kitty, using her phase power, slipped through the walls of the facility, ignoring the cries of terror she elicited from the inmates.  Kurt was with her, and would teleport the three of them back outside when their business was finished.  

Reaching their desired room, Kitty slipped them both inside, and they stared at the patient, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.  

Lying face up on his bed, Bobby Drake was covered in a literal foot of blankets, sleeping.  Mystique had told her son and Kitty that the boy's powers' manifestation had caused him to believe he was freezing to death, and that was what had driven him insane.  He always wanted more blankets, even though they never made a difference with his powers.  

Mystique had ordered the two Brotherhood members to rescue the boy from his prison, and deliver him to the care of a neutral party that was employed by Magneto.  This party would then reconstruct Bobby's mind back to a perfectly normal state, enough so that he would be a willing member of Mystique's gang.  

"Looks like we'll get ourselves a new brother, eh?" Kitty grinned.  

Kurt only nodded in response, and she stepped over to Bobby and began removing the blankets.  As she removed each one, Bobby slowly started to wake, stirring and moving his head from side to side.  Kitty assumed it was the cold he always felt and just kept working.  As she removed the last couple, however, he suddenly snapped awake, opening his mouth to begin screaming.  

Kurt reacted immediately, releasing a misty spray of purple into Bobby's face.  The boy promptly collapsed back onto the bed, knocked out by the sleep gas.  Kitty phased him from the straps that kept him in bed at the wrists and ankles, and Kurt put his hand on her shoulder while she held onto Bobby.  

In a cloud of smoke, they vanished, reappearing outside the asylum.  Just as they started to leave, a figure approached them.  

"Been waiting for you, friends," he said.  "I'm Silas, the telepath Magneto sent to help with the boy there."  He indicated Bobby.  

Kitty and Kurt relaxed and followed the man as he led them to his truck.  There, a second man waited, and Silas only mentioned the man as the Vanisher before having the Brotherhood members hand over Bobby.  

"You'll get him back soon as I finish with him," Silas grunted.  The other man teleported Kitty and Kurt to the spot Mystique had said, in Mississippi.  

***********************************************************************

Rogue swung herself over the wooden fence and dropped to the ground, her adrenaline more than compensating for the slight stun contacting the ground gave her.  She took a deep breath of air even as she launched herself into yet another dead run, trying desperately to survive the night.  

But her energy was starting to drain her, and she was becoming tired.  She knew, deep in the recesses of her mind, that only another strike of terror could make her adrenaline surge come back.  Panting heavily, she stumbled forward and grabbed onto the bowl of a birdbath, doing all she could to collect herself quickly.  If she didn't hurry, though, those maniacs would get her.  

A quick grunt from behind made her spin, but she didn't see anything.  Rogue blinked, confused, until Toad landed in the birdbath a second later.  He had jumped over the fence with all his energy, going for both height and distance, trying to get ahead of the paranoid mutant and calm her down.  

Screaming, Rogue stumbled back and fell onto her butt, and she turned, clawing for ground.  But the green-garbed mutant only leapt in front of her, grabbing her shoulders.  Something inside Rogue snapped, and she found she could only freeze in total terror.  She knew that her rather sad life was going to end now, with her tragic death at the hands of a kid who looked like a greasy loser.  

"Would you just stop running, yo?" the kid asked.  "We ain't done nothin'!"  

Rogue blinked, the words slowly sinking in.  She stared at the boy, confused no end.  

"But, weren't you and your friends the ones who attacked me?" Rogue asked.  

Toad blinked.  "Say what?  Girl, all we did was chase you just now!  We ain't seen your pretty behind before just a moment ago!" 

Rogue was no moron.  She had a brain, and knew perfectly well how to use it.  Connections were being made, and she was slowly realizing what had happened.  Being the movie fan that she was, she knew about "masters of disguise" and whatnot.  '_Did one of those fakes attack me?_' she asked herself.  

"What do you want from me?" she asked the boy.  He and his friends might have plans for her, even if she wasn't to be killed in them.  

"We just want to talk, yo," the kid said.  He took his hands off her shoulders, wiped one on a pant leg, and held it out to shake.  "The name's Toad."  

Rogue swallowed a few times before she used her gloved hand to shake.  "Rogue."  

Just then, another boy vaulted over the fence, wearing dark clothing, gray body armor, and what seemed to be a bowl on his head.  Rogue instinctively backed away from Toad.  

As the new guy opened his mouth, a "bamf" went off.  Rogue turned around to see what was going on, but whoever had just arrived leapt over her at Toad and Bowl-Head.  The three began fighting, so quickly so that when Rogue turned back around, Toad flew straight into her, knocking the wind from the girl's lungs.  

She tried to push her acquaintance off of her, but her hand slipped and touched his face.  Rogue felt like she was a vacuum cleaner, sucking up everything in him.  Caught in another fear grip, she jerked her hand away and bounded over the fence---in a single leap.  

********************************************************************* 

Rogue found that she had run into a cemetery on the outskirts of town, and dashed further into the labyrinth.  Strange people that Irene had called "mutant hunters," saying they were members of a team of such named the X-Men, had attacked her.  The young Goth was scared shitless with fear, and was just trying to escape everything.  

She crept into an aboveground crypt and hid behind the large stone coffin.  Rogue had no idea if she had lost her assailants or not, but she didn't dare bet on it.  The man who attacked her, the one with the claws, had seemed like an animal, and Rogue would guess that he might be some kind of tracker.  The white-haired woman only conjured up lightning, so Rogue hazarded that she could emit electrical discharges.  

But the other X-Men were a total mystery to her.  The redhead, if her crimson hair betrayed anything, might have fire-related powers.  The boy with the visor was an enigma.  The boy in green, from all that Rogue had seen, could only hop.  And she had no idea what the man in the wheelchair got going.  

But what was up with Toad and Bowl-Head?  Were they for real about what Toad had said, about being innocent of attacking her, or were they faking it?  She didn't know, but dearly wanted to.  Irene had said that the X-Men were mutant hunters, and that animal-man had said himself that he was one of them.  Same went for the white-haired woman.  

_What the heck was going on?  _

A footstep alerted her to the presence of another person, and she prepared herself to run again.  Peeking around the edge of the coffin, she saw a young girl, maybe Rogue's own age, carefully entering the tomb.  She wore her brown hair in a ponytail, and had on a black uniform with a yellow collar, gloves, boots, and a violet section going down her front.  Rogue scanned the girl for any sign of the "X" that her alleged mutant hunter enemies brandished on their outfits, but saw nothing.  Maybe she wasn't with the X-Men.  

"Rogue?" the girl asked quietly.  "Are you in here?  I'm a friend, really.  I won't hurt you."  

Rogue didn't answer, instead keeping quiet.  The girl stayed near the entrance, trapping Rogue inside.  

"Rogue, come on, I won't hurt you, I promise!" the girl hissed.  She rolled her eyes when she didn't get an answer.  "Look, I saw your footprints coming in here, and this is the _only_ entrance.  Don't play stupid with me, because I take that from everyone else."  

'_Now I really _am_ trapped_,' Rogue thought dismally.  Inwardly readying herself, she stood up and faced the girl, who rounded on her.  

"Knew you'd come out," the girl said.  "We need to get you to a safe place."  

"Oh really?" Rogue asked sarcastically.  

"Yeah, really.  The X-Men are trained killers, Rogue.  Just think about it: Toad was holding you in one spot until Avalanche showed up to help him with you.  Nightcrawler tried to save you, and you absorbed Toad's powers when you touched him.  I saw the whole thing on the way here, plus what Nightcrawler told me a moment ago."  

"Who are you, though?" 

"I'm Shadowcat.  I'm not with the X-Men, though, I'm a member of the Brotherhood of Mutants.  We're the good guys."  

Rogue didn't move.  "Prove it."  

Shadowcat sighed, as if about to say something very heavy.  

"I was pretty much just like you: A normal girl with normal girl problems.  Bullies at school harassed me, and people didn't appreciate me for what or who I was.  I got really angry one day, and my powers activated.  It scared the living crap out of me when it happened, too.  My parents were freaked, I was freaked, and I still got no respect.  

"The X-Men decided to drop by my school and try to recruit me.  When that didn't work, they tried to make sure I didn't go against them.  I was almost killed when Mystique showed up and saved my life.  I owe her everything."  

Rogue was, in fact, shocked by the girl's words.  She just stared at Shadowcat, stunned silent.  

"That might work for you, child, but not for the other one here," Storm said as she landed outside the door, keeping both girls trapped inside.  "If the girl knew the truth about that day, she would make a choice other than your Brotherhood."  

Shadowcat slipped a wooden rod off her back, one that Rogue hadn't noticed before.  She brandished it like an expert.  

"Let's see you try and recruit her, you white-haired weather witch," Shadowcat challenged.  

"I will," Storm said coldly.  "You should know, Rogue, that Kitty used to be a good girl until her powers manifested.  She was telling the truth about that, but she lied about the rest.  She wanted revenge against her tormentors, and so she tried to hurt them using her abilities.  When the X-Men interfered, she attacked them as well, and ran off to avoid repercussions.  What do you think, Rogue, will happen if you make the same choice she did?"  

Rogue glanced from Shadowcat to Storm, unsure of what exactly to do.  Before she could say anything, Shadowcat spun to her, and spoke.  

"What's it going to be, Rogue?  Is she telling the truth, or am I?  She has more experience at lying through her teeth at people.  I'm honestly just a valley girl type of person."  

"Yeah, right," Rogue ground out, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  "I choose them."  

"And now _you_ choose, Shadowcat," said a male voice from beyond Storm.  

The rest of the X-Men stepped into view, ready to attack the Brotherhood girl.  

Kitty snorted.  "I'm outta here."  

Rogue gasped, surprised deeply, as Kitty sank through the floor of the crypt with her powers, vanishing completely.  Storm stepped over to her when Kitty was gone, holding out a hand for Rogue to take.  

"Come, child, you need to get cleaned up after such a harsh night."  She led Rogue to the others, the Goth feeling relieved that the nightmare was over.  

********************************************************************

AUTHOR: Hope that was some good! 

READ N REVIEW! 


	4. Moved

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO track: I have plans for a girl, but not those suggested two.  
  
TO Sandoz: I can't really say yet on the Kitty question, sorry.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 4: Moved  
  
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Fred Dukes was madder than he'd ever been before. Oh, sure, he'd probably say the same thing later, when he was even madder than right now, but at the current point in time, he was at his maddest. He had been staring as a spectacle for a while now, earning some good money, but sometimes making a total fool of himself and causing people to laugh at him.  
  
That was why he was mad: People had laughed at him, and he swore it was going to be for the last time. He had just proven he could break anyone's skull, and the whole stadium had erupted into echoing peals of laughter when he fell on his face.  
  
'Could happen to anyone, even them, but they had to laugh at me!' he snarled in his mind as he buried his fist in the wall for the fifth time. He pulled it back, leaving a crater in the building material. It had been several minutes since he had entered his room, and he had passed that time by trashing the place. He had tossed things about and broke them as well.  
  
"Angry, bub?" a gruff voice asked, causing Fred to abruptly halt his tantrum and turn to the voice's owner.  
  
A man that was maybe five-foot-five stood there in a leather jacket and cowboy hat, just watching Fred.  
  
"What do YOU want?" Fred growled.  
  
"Just t'talk, bub," the man said. "You maybe got something guys like me are looking for, and the bad guys will use ya from the start."  
  
"What the heck are you talking about, shrimp?" Fred asked.  
  
"Ya got superhuman powers, Blob," the man said. "I got some o' the same, only mine's different."  
  
"Superhuman powers, eh? That would explain why I can take down anyone."  
  
"Most anyone, since there're a lot of people you don't know about in the world, and they got mutant powers too."  
  
"Just who ARE you?"  
  
"Name's Logan. I came here looking for a new recruit for a guy I know. You seem about right."  
  
"Listen, pal, if you're from the circus..."  
  
"Nope. I'm from something else entirely."  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"Come on, Kurt," Kitty leered. "You have to try harder than that."  
  
"Then try this, Kitten," he snapped, leaping straight for her but teleporting at the last moment.  
  
Kitty coughed and waved the smoke away, and was nailed from behind when Nightcrawler reappeared behind her. She did a shoulder roll and came up smoothly, her leg sweeping up and sending the German mutant into the wall.  
  
"Enough!" Mystique thundered as she entered the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House. She slammed the door shut, and Kitty and Kurt immediately stood side-by-side, perfectly straight.  
  
"What do you two think you were doing?" Mystique asked sharply.  
  
"Just training, Mother," Kurt answered. "We don't have a Danger Room, remember?"  
  
"Be that as it may," Mystique growled, "you two still have no right to start tearing your only home in Bayville down because you need the exercise."  
  
"Then how should we get better?" Kitty asked pointedly. "I don't see a training facility of any kind for mutants nearby."  
  
Mystique glowered at the girl. "If it wasn't for my son's affection for you, I'd punish you for that."  
  
In the Brotherhood house, it was no secret that, in the short time they had been together, Kitty and Kurt were already dating each other. Mystique, of course, was usually fine with this, although she didn't really show it too much.  
  
"We have a problem, children," Mystique said as she seated herself on the couch. "The Blob was spoken to by Xavier's man before I could reach him. He will almost certainly join them now."  
  
"But that doesn't stop us from trying, does it?" Kurt asked. "He still has until they actually put him into their ranks."  
  
"Kurt's right," Kitty agreed. "This Blob guy may sound disgusting, but if the X-Men can stand him, then so can we. Besides, we got all the hot boys." At the last part, she looked lovingly at Kurt.  
  
Mystique considered this. Blob had talked with Logan, and had gone with him on the way back here to Bayville. The only possible flaw with Blob already being with the X-Men was that she wasn't sure if he had taken to them yet. If he hadn't, then she stood a chance of turning him.  
  
The Brotherhood needed more soldiers to combat Xavier's, the trio knew. Drake was not yet ready for the world, and Kitty and Kurt couldn't do everything themselves. Mystique was a deadly enemy alone, but she was no one-woman army. Magneto was powerful, but he had ordered her to gain as many warriors for their cause as possible.  
  
"I suppose our only option is to make sure the Blob does not join the X- Men," she said.  
  
The other two looked at each other, broad, malicious smiles on their faces.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
At the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, the Danger Room was being used on some pretty unusual settings. Cyclops, Jean Grey, Rogue, and Toad had all been placed on the team that would be the hunters under the settings.  
  
The team's mission objective: Get Wolverine.  
  
The problem: Wolverine being one of the most dangerous people alive.  
  
The young mutants knew they were in for a rough day when Xavier had told them about the exercise, but it had become even rougher when Storm said she wasn't going to be assisting them.  
  
"Are we going to live through this?" Toad asked. "I would really like to see tomorrow."  
  
"I'm sure we'll live, Toad," Cyclops said. "Now, let's go over the plan one more time: Jean, you scan for Wolverine on the right while Toad searches for him on the left with Rogue's help. I go down the center to try and draw him out. Ready? Go."  
  
Jean set up a telekinetic bubble around herself for protection while she searched for the hiding Wolverine among the city ruins the Danger Room was playing. Toad and Rogue made for the opposite side of the room, Toad leaping about expertly and leading Rogue off. Cyclops slowly began striding forward, looking about with his hand ready at his visor, prepared to unleash hell.  
  
'Jean, what's the status?' Cyclops asked telepathically, awaiting the answer. When none came after a couple of moments, his first thought was that Wolverine had taken her out first. He whirled, ready to race for her, when she came through.  
  
'Nothing on my side of things,' she reported. 'Sorry for taking a little bit, but I had another headache.'  
  
'You seem to have a lot of those now. Have you seen the Professor about them?'  
  
'Why? He specializes in genetics, not pain relief.'  
  
Cyclops couldn't help but grin at that. He moved on, letting the others continue searching. Toad and Rogue had likewise found no sign of Wolverine, and Cyclops was beginning to wonder if Wolverine was going to move sometime soon or not.  
  
"That the best you got, boy?" Wolverine asked from behind before he slapped Cyclops' visor off with no challenge at all. Scott scrambled around blindly for them as Wolverine shook his head in disgust.  
  
"End the program, Chuck!" he called. "This was way too easy!"  
  
The city ruins vanished, and the Danger Room was back to its regular state. The X-Men lay scattered about the place, only Rogue and Toad near each other because they had been paired up. Jean was groaning, one hand to her head, a couple dozen yards from where Cyclops and Wolverine stood.  
  
Xavier and Ororo entered through the large, X-shaped door, and halted in front of Logan, who had removed his mask.  
  
"How was it, Logan?" Xavier asked.  
  
"They hardly even tried, Chuck," Logan said sourly. "Only Jeannie came close to giving me a headache, but nothing like the one she's got going now."  
  
For a moment, the Canadian mutant swore that Xavier appeared very worried, but the look vanished as quickly as it happened.  
  
"Is she feeling all right?" the Professor asked.  
  
"She'll be just fine," Logan said with a wave of the hand. "It's the others I'm worried about. They fought like wimps."  
  
"Many people do not have your particular talents, Logan," Ororo reminded the senior X-Man.  
  
Logan smiled thinly. "I know, darling."  
  
Xavier let his worry die back down. Jean was very important to him, in ways only a handful of people knew.  
  
"Very well, Logan. Have the students ready themselves for school, as it starts in thirty minutes' time. Ororo and I will speak with Mr. Dukes in the meantime, but he will make school today."  
  
At that, the crippled leader of the X-Men turned and left.  
  
"All right, chumps!" Logan called. "Get moving!"  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Fred was rather nervous, using two of Xavier's study chairs to seat himself. The old bald man rolled in after a short while and took his place behind the desk before speaking.  
  
"Mr. Dukes, it has been determined that you are, the same as the others at this mansion, a mutant. Your powers, it would seem, include superhuman strength, invulnerability, and your gut being used as a weapon."  
  
"Uh, sure," Fred agreed blankly.  
  
"Logan told me about the people laughing at you. But I wish to hear your story before I ask you some questions, chief among them being whether or not you will join the team."  
  
"Sure," Fred said again. "I really just hate being laughed at. People always make fun of me because I'm so huge. I get angry a lot because of that. I don't make fun of anyone, so why should I be made fun of? I really just want people to accept me. I mean, look at me: I'm a freaking giant!"  
  
"I understand you perfectly, Mr. Dukes. And I never judge people based on looks alone. While here, you will learn not only to tolerate others, but to accept yourself. This is very important, because, before anyone can accept you, you must accept yourself for who you are. You cannot limit yourself by allowing yourself to be judged by others. You must define yourself. Of course, this will all happen after you are enrolled here. But that is ultimately your choice, Mr. Dukes."  
  
"Do I get time to think about this, because it sounds like a major thing."  
  
"Of course."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Mystique was planning, as she had been for the past few hours, on how to turn the Blob to the Brotherhood's side. Her group needed someone with his kind of brute strength, since all they had was finesse. Magneto had raw strength, but his powers were limited to controlling only metal. Drake would be serving the cause like a loyal son soon, but not soon enough.  
  
Still, if they didn't get Dukes, Drake had more than enough raw power to wipe out an entire city on his own. Magneto predicted that, with enough training, the boy could become one of the strongest mutants in the world. Perhaps stronger than Magneto himself.  
  
The thought made Mystique shiver despite herself.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Fred had been thinking for a long while, walking down the roads of Bayville. That Ororo woman had thankfully given him a map with very obvious and simple instructions and signs on it, so that he would be able to find his way back. He had told them he was rather dim at times.  
  
He was in the park when it happened: Two shrimps appeared right in front of him, the blue boy teleporting in and the girl rising from the ground as though she were a ghost. Fred was spooked for a moment, but then realized they were also mutants.  
  
"Who are you guys?" he asked.  
  
"Friends, perhaps," the blue elf said. "It depends on where you choose to go. We have a place where all mutants can fit in, Fred---or Blob, if that's what you prefer to call yourself. I'm Nightcrawler, and this is Shadowcat."  
  
"Okay," Fred said, slowly realizing these two might be trouble despite however frail they looked.  
  
"And I am Mystique, leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, dear Mr. Dukes," a woman said as she emerged from the trees to one side. Like Nightcrawler, she also had blue skin, but not in the form of fur.  
  
"What do you guys want?" Fred asked.  
  
"You, of course, Fred," Mystique grinned. "You could be a very powerful person by joining with us."  
  
"Lady, I may not be very smart, but I'm not THAT stupid," Fred frowned. "Anytime someone talks like that, it means they're the bad guy."  
  
"Then I'm afraid your decline of our generous offer means that you have just made yourself our enemy," Mystique said, almost sounding regretful. "Children, deal with him."  
  
Shadowcat and Nightcrawler both leapt at Fred instantly, the girl pulling out a pair of nunchucks and the other simply latching onto Fred. The massive mutant merely plucked them both off and tossed them to the ground.  
  
"That won't work so easy on the Blob!" Fred crowed. "I'll flatten you!"  
  
"Nightcrawler, if you would?" Shadowcat asked sweetly.  
  
The boy teleported onto Fred, and then teleported them both up several dozen yards, releasing Fred before saving himself. Fred slammed into the ground, creating a minor tremor. As he got back up, Fred heard people running toward him and turned to see whom it was.  
  
Incredibly, it was the X-Men. Dressed for battle were Rogue, Toad, Jean, Scott, Wolverine, and Storm.  
  
Upon seeing their sworn enemies, the Brotherhood decided a tactical retreat was best. But, Mystique knew, not before she gave a few words to them.  
  
"You are making a very grave mistake, Blob!" she said. "But since you are very important to the Brotherhood, I'll keep the offer on the table. You can lick Xavier's boots for now, but later, the time will come when you need to make the right decision."  
  
She stopped there, grabbing onto Nightcrawler's shoulder, as did Shadowcat. Together, they teleported from danger.  
  
The X-Men halted at Fred's side. Wolverine approached, his claws already sheathed.  
  
"So, bub, what did she want with ya?"  
  
"Something about joining her little clique," Fred grumbled. "As if I don't got enough grief already, some blue-skinned bimbo needs to come along and try to recruit me."  
  
"Well, some women are just plain nuts."  
  
It was very difficult for Fred to say what came next, but he forced himself to. "Uh, listen, I want to thank you for, you know, coming to the rescue and all. No one's ever done that for me---I mean, with what I got and all that."  
  
"I know what you mean," Wolverine nodded. "You sure they won't bother you again tonight? You could always stay at the Institute until you go."  
  
"Actually," Fred said, "I'm all packed to move right in."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Short and simple, I know, but worth every syllable!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	5. Tire Hazard

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO The Son of Logan and Ororo: I am very sorry, but I cannot do that in this fic. However, another AU Evo fic I am planning might just have that, so keep your eyes out.  
  
TO Sandoz: I plan on having a little fun with Lance, but he gets a good girl, just like Todd will.  
  
TO The Scribe: You're getting back to the whole "Bobby Thing" again. He'll get a girl in the sequel, if not sooner.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 5: Tire Hazard  
  
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In the gymnasium of Union High School, Ororo Munroe was in the stand, cheering her nephew on as much as possible. She wasn't acting as fanatically as some people present---particularly that girl near the front-- -but she was cheering very well.  
  
"Go, Evan, go!" she yelled, trying not to make a fool of herself.  
  
"Go, Pietro, go!" the girl in front yelled, matching Ororo's call.  
  
The African woman felt like the girl was competition, but that was ridiculous. The mutant did her best to ignore the girl for the rest of the game as Evan and his teammate Pietro continued to score. The game began winding down, and Ororo kept cheering for Evan, the same as the girl kept cheering for Pietro.  
  
With only a few seconds left in the game, Evan ignored the yells from Pietro and shot with all the might and skill he had in him, hoping he wasn't overdoing it. If he missed this shot, his team lost to the opposition. Evan had something of an obsession for winning. He wanted to win at everything. His parents thought he needed help with that, but he felt just fine.  
  
In fact, the only other person to have the same "condition" as Evan was his teammate and fellow high school student, Pietro Maximoff. Pietro loved to win and turn his nose up at everyone, which sometimes included Evan. The two were friendly rivals, but on occasion had been known to get into heated arguments. Evan still respected Pietro, but there was no way in hell the other boy could make the shot in time, and that was the reason Evan took the shot now.  
  
The basketball soared through the air, and Evan could have sworn he heard everyone present take a breath and hold it before the sphere sank through the hope. When it did, the Union High supporters and players erupted into cheers. Evan and Ororo seemed to screaming the loudest of them all.  
  
But from the corner of his eye, Evan could see Pietro wasn't happy, that the other boy had a smoldering glare on his face. This would have puzzled Evan, but the Daniels boy was being congratulated greatly by the Union crowd, who were thanking him for such a shot.  
  
"Pietro Maximoff?" a girl asked, approaching giddily and turning the player's attention to herself.  
  
"Yeah?" he asked, looking at the fan, who was decked totally in Union garb, with his jersey on. Her Union hat even had "Go Pietro!" written on it in permanent marker.  
  
"Could you, like, sign this please?" she quite literally begged, lifting up her shirt.  
  
Pietro caught himself staring briefly, even though he didn't have the x-ray vision he sometimes wished he had. Pulling out a marker, he swiftly wrote his flashy signature on the girl's cleavage, which caused her to explode with joy and, thanking and praising him greatly, she left. Pietro found himself in a good mood just because of her.  
  
Across the gym, though, Ororo Munroe had a dark and pensive look on her face. She had finally seen the fan's face, and didn't like the plot that was surely involved one bit.  
  
"Shadowcat," she whispered before heading to the boys' locker room, intent on finding her young nephew.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"You couldn't have made that shot, Pietro," Evan smirked. "You were too far away."  
  
"Yeah right, Daniels," Pietro shot back. His good mood was gone, and he was getting angry at his teammate. "I've got skills you don't even know about."  
  
After practically snarling that last part, the boy left, allowing Evan some breathing space. He put on his white sleeveless shirt, finished dressing, just as Ororo entered with a smile.  
  
"That was a wonderful game, Evan," she said. "Your last shot saved us a loss."  
  
"Thanks, Auntie O," Evan said.  
  
Ororo didn't mind the name, but it sometimes got tiresome. Still, she would tolerate it for all of tonight, as long as she kept Shadowcat on her mind every few seconds. The girl was highly intelligent, and extremely dangerous with her particular powers.  
  
"Evan, I was wondering how your abilities were coming along," she commented, trying to sound neutral.  
  
"I told you, Auntie O, I have them completely under control," Evan said confidently.  
  
Abruptly, he sneezed, shards of bone shooting out from his body, tearing through his clothes easily, and embedding themselves in the walls, lockers, ceiling, floor and benches. Evan grinned sheepishly as Ororo spoke.  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
After the game, the party moved to the Daniels residence itself, where Evan's parents were cooking on an open grill in the backyard. Evan sat with Ororo at a picnic table. Actually, he sat on the top, while she sat on the actual seat. Scott and Jean were inside the home, about to come out and get something to eat. From what Scott had told Ororo, Jean was having another headache. This concerned the woman, as it seemed very odd for someone to have nearly endless headaches day after day. Rogue had declined to come, saying she didn't want to absorb the minds of anyone she didn't know. Lance had stayed in Bayville because he wanted badly to study for his grades.  
  
"Look, Auntie O, I now you want to watch out for me, but I got things under control," Evan insisted.  
  
"Like you did in the locker room?" Ororo asked sarcastically.  
  
Evan looked away from his relative. "Okay, so I slip sometimes. I'm fine otherwise."  
  
"Evan, you need proper training to fully control your powers before they do harm to someone just because you were too proud to get help," Ororo said seriously.  
  
"Can we at least talk this out with my parents?" he asked, exasperated.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Food's ready!" Mr. Daniels called, bringing the two mutants over.  
  
After filling their stomachs, the group gathered in the Daniels' living room, discussing Evan's powers. His parents didn't want him to leave, but did want their son to be able to keep things in hand in the future, to prevent harm.  
  
"And just what is this 'Xavier Institute,' Auntie O?" Evan asked.  
  
"Professor Xavier established his institute to teach mutants to better control their powers before those powers become a danger to the people in the world," Ororo answered. "Corny but true."  
  
"And who are they?" Evan asked, indicating Scott and Jean, the latter of which was rubbing her head, under siege from illness yet again. Ororo pitied the girl.  
  
"We're mutants too," Scott said. "We go to the Institute."  
  
"And what special abilities do you have, Shades?" Evan asked, starting to sound caustic. He probably didn't want to leave home, Ororo felt.  
  
"My powers aren't exactly indoor friendly," Scott said.  
  
"What's with her?" Evan asked.  
  
"Jean's been having a lot of headaches lately."  
  
"I meant her powers," Evan said stiffly.  
  
"She can read minds and move things with her own."  
  
"Can she read MY mind?" Evan almost sneered, stepping closer to them.  
  
"Evan, that's enough," Mrs. Daniels said sharply. "Try to show some respect."  
  
"What?" Evan asked, playing the dumb innocent. "Am I the only one who can tell that this 'institute' is really just a camp for freaks and weirdoes?"  
  
"Evan, really!" Ororo said, stunned at her nephew's behavior.  
  
Throwing his hands, up, the boy stormed from the living room and to his own. The others heard his door slam shut.  
  
"That could have gone better," Scott said. "You should have warned us about his attitude swings."  
  
"We were hoping he would show some self-restraint to guests," Mr. Daniels said. "Apparently, something's eating away at him, because he normally doesn't act THIS bad."  
  
Suddenly, Jean perked up.  
  
"He's going out the window!" she said, staring at the ceiling.  
  
After a stunned pause, the others hurried upstairs, just in time to see Evan leave on the streets below.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Evan had a plan: Using his mutant abilities, he was going to catch the thief that had been plaguing him for so very long. He rode his skateboard to the high school, silently slipping inside, using every stealth technique he had---which was to say almost nothing, since he was no spy or ninja.  
  
He hid himself in the hallway that had his locker, crouching at the end of a row of them. Balling up his fists, he raised a set of spikes along the back of each forearm.  
  
"Let's see this phantom robber now."  
  
Slowly at first but then gaining quickness, a wind picked up. Evan was confused, blinking as a whirlwind started. He held up his arms to protect himself from the lockers' contents, which had been ripped from their storage and were now flying around wildly in the wind.  
  
"That's enough!" Evan bit out, flinging spear-length spikes into the floor in front of him.  
  
What happened next totally shocked him.  
  
The wind ceased abruptly as Pietro Maximoff, garbed in a stylish blue and white bodysuit of some sort, stood in front of Evan, a smirk on his face.  
  
"So, you got powers too, Daniels?" he sneered. "I'm surprised."  
  
"Pietro?" Evan gaped. "But I don't get it."  
  
"You were always the slow one, Daniels."  
  
"But why are you stealing stuff?"  
  
"For the thrill, man, for the challenge!" Pietro said, as though it were obvious. "When you live as fast as I do, you constantly need to keep yourself occupied. I mean, it only took me a quarter of a second to make this suit! Like it, by the way?"  
  
Evan could only stare in disbelief.  
  
Using the pause, Pietro zipped down and pulled Evan's wallet out, taking the money from it.  
  
"I believe you owe me this," he said.  
  
"That, and a whole lot more," Evan growled as he got to his feet.  
  
Pietro laughed as he zipped behind the other boy and knocked him down. He laughed at his rival.  
  
"Daniels, you really are pathetic."  
  
"What do you want, Pietro? Guys like you always want something."  
  
"Gee, you're right. Can you say 'scapegoat'?"  
  
With a final cackle, the speedster was gone. A moment later, Evan noticed the flashlights of a couple of cops, who had been alerted to the break-in.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Evan was sitting in the holding cell at the station, feeling like his life was over, when several long shadows reached to where he sat. Looking, he jumped to his feet and ran to the bars, glad to see his family.  
  
"Welcome to the downside, pal," Scott said snobbishly. "Misuse your powers, go to jail."  
  
"It wasn't me, man!" Evan protested. "Somebody framed me! I know who, but I can't prove it!"  
  
"You know, Evan, this little event is all the more reason to come to the Institute," Ororo said. "We look out for each other, and your training will come in very handy."  
  
"Will he be all right, though?" Mrs. Daniels asked.  
  
"He'll be just fine," Jean said, feeling better for a change. Her headache had subdued for the present.  
  
"All right, Evan," Scott asked. "What's it going to be?"  
  
"Like I got a choice," the boy grumbled.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
At the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House, Mystique was watching Kurt try to braid Kitty's hair with his odd hands. He wasn't doing a bad job of it, but had difficulty.  
  
The blue-skinned woman sighed heavily. She was getting very tired of waiting for Silas to finish with Drake. Xavier had three heavy hitters on his own team---Storm, Jean Grey, and Scott Summers---while Mystique only had Kurt and Kitty, whose powers were more passive and less destructive. Drake had amazing potential, and, as the metamorph had always known, the power to take down an entire city on his own.  
  
"Is it feeling cooler, or is that just me?" Kitty asked.  
  
Mystique perked up. She had a feeling about this, and decided to act on it. Getting up from her seat, she strode to the door, moving to open it. When her hand touched the knob, though, she jerked it back. Examining it closer, she noticed it was coated with frost.  
  
'What in the...?' she thought.  
  
Suddenly, she threw herself back into the living room as the entire door froze over with ice. It shattered, shards raining down across the floor, and a figure entered. Kitty, Kurt, and Mystique stared in total shock as a younger version of the T-1000 from Terminator 2 walked over to them and stood still.  
  
His body reverting back to flesh and bone, revealing the attire of the New Mutants, Bobby Drake gazed at the trio, who comprised the bulk of the Brotherhood of Mutants. After a moment, he spoke in a cold, freezing voice that matched the reduced temperature.  
  
"You can call me...Iceman."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
At the Institute, the Danger Room was being used again. Wolverine had set it so that the newest recruit, Spyke, would get a real workout on his natural abilities---not just his powers, but his skill at skateboarding.  
  
But after almost two hours, they were still at it. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Lance were on raised tiers, looking down on the new guy. Spyke wiped the sweat from his brow as he prepared to go yet again.  
  
Jumping onto the skateboard, he shot down the sloping metal ramp. Cyclops fired optic blasts, with Spyke dodging and only getting the heat from the beams passing by. Jean lifted a few large spheres, her mind becoming heavily taxed simply by doing this, and threw them at her new teammate. Spyke shot a full blast of bone shards at the balls, wrecking them.  
  
But then Avalanche decided to join in.  
  
Slamming his foot on the floor, he sent ripples through it. Traveling through the building itself, his powers shook the ramps Spyke rode on, causing the boy to fall off his skateboard and smack onto the floor, which was a good ten feet below him, fortunately.  
  
"You okay?" Cyclops asked.  
  
"Let's try again," Spyke grunted through the pain.  
  
"Are you sure?" Avalanche asked. "You've been trying for a while now."  
  
"Just do it!" Spyke hissed as he headed back up to the top of the ramps.  
  
Sighing, the other X-Men complied.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
The next day, at Bayville High, a special meeting was being held. The secretary was curious as to why an unknown student was sitting next to two enrolled students. The boy wasn't familiar to her, but the other boy and the girl were.  
  
Inside her office, Raven Darkhölme was speaking with Magneto. He had come to tell her about a few things, actually.  
  
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked her leader.  
  
"I want to point you toward a new mutant," he said. "He's very special."  
  
Raven waved a hand. "If you mean the Daniels boy Xavier enrolled here, you're a little late."  
  
"I was referring to Pietro Maximoff."  
  
Raven frowned. "Maximoff?"  
  
"He has great gifts that I ~will~ have."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"He has weaknesses, despite his incredible strength. Your newest member, Iceman, could defeat him. But I want subtlety in this. The boy is proud, and pride is very deadly."  
  
"What do you propose?"  
  
In response, Magneto formed two holograms just above her desk: One of Pietro, one of Evan.  
  
"The Daniels boy and Maximoff are fierce rivals in just about everything. Shall I leave the rest up to you?"  
  
Raven smiled evilly. "Of course. I know exactly what to do."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Later that day, Evan and the others were back again in the Danger Room. Jean, though, had not joined in this time, because yet another headache had assaulted her, and she needed to recover. This left Scott, Todd, Rogue, Ororo, and Logan to deal with Evan.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Toad asked. "All of us against just him?" He pointed at Spyke, who glared.  
  
"Just try me, Toad."  
  
"All right," Rogue growled. "We'll do more than 'try' you, Spyke." To emphasize, she cracked her knuckles.  
  
"Do not intentionally cause serious harm, Rogue," Storm admonished.  
  
"Fine by us," Avalanche smirked. "Come and get some."  
  
"I've been waiting for you to ask," Spyke grinned, and readied himself.  
  
Abruptly, Xavier's voice entered their minds, halting the activity.  
  
'Sorry for the intrusion, but there has been a last-minute scheduling of basketball games,' the Professor informed them. 'Evan, the coach requests you to be ready very soon.'  
  
The mutants groaned, except for Ororo and Logan.  
  
"And I was just getting ready to thrash you weaklings," Evan smirked confidently. 'Oh, Professor, who's the game against?'  
  
'Surprisingly, your old school.'  
  
Evan felt his mood darken, and, through the psychic rapport shared by the others, so did they.  
  
"Something wrong, Porcupine?" Logan asked.  
  
"Yeah, and his name's Pietro Maximoff."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Pietro Maximoff stepped off the bus from Union High, frowning as he studied Bayville High School. He personally thought the place was Loser High, and briefly entertained the prospect of trashing it like he lately did with his own high school. He was just about to enter the place when a voice singled him out.  
  
"Hey, Maximoff!" Evan Daniels called as he came over.  
  
Pietro smirked coolly. If Daniels wanted a rematch, this was actually going to be a good night. The punk was so slow that Pietro could fall asleep and this tortoise would still lose!  
  
"What do you want, Daniels?" he sneered imperiously.  
  
"We got business to settle, Maximoff," Evan growled, jabbing a finger into Pietro's chest.  
  
A hand clapped itself onto Evan's shoulder as a boy and girl appeared.  
  
"Evan, the coach is looking for you," Scott said.  
  
"I'm a little busy right now," the other boy growled.  
  
"Who's this, Daniels?" Pietro asked. "Some loser friends for the loser?"  
  
"Is there a problem here?" Scott asked Pietro.  
  
"Not for long there won't be," Evan cut in. "And this is the guy who stole from the lockers at Union High."  
  
"That true?" Scott asked Pietro.  
  
"Actually," the speedster said before whipping Scott around and throwing him to the ground with astonishing speed. "Yeah, it is true! I wrecked those lockers myself."  
  
"Why don't you just hold it right there?" Jean said as she grabbed for him.  
  
Pietro easily evaded her and began running off.  
  
"Come and get me, Daniels!" he challenged.  
  
Evan grabbed his duffel bag from the ground where he had dropped it when confronting Pietro, and rummaged through it as he ran after his enemy, pulling out his uniform.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Pietro, now garbed in his Quicksilver outfit, raced through the streets of Bayville, with little regard to whatever he broke. He was causing gale- force winds to whistle about, which sent mailboxes and various other objects flying. The real destruction would have to wait until Daniels showed up and was in the position to be framed a second time.  
  
"Maximoff!" Spyke shouted, getting the speedster's attention.  
  
Halting himself, Quicksilver stared down Spyke, who was chasing after him with Cyclops and Jean in tow.  
  
Nearby, two figures watched and waited.  
  
"We don't have time for this," one said.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Quicksilver began moving again, charging the heroes and running circles around the trio, hitting them every few seconds. As he did this, he called out mockingly to them.  
  
"Come on, Daniels! I thought you were going to be tougher with some more losers backing you!"  
  
"Lose this!" Spyke snarled as he swiped at his foe and missed.  
  
Jean put her hands to her temples and used her telekinesis to lift Quicksilver off the ground, effectively stopping him. The speedster hung in the air, suspended and kicking his legs uselessly.  
  
"Hey, what gives?" he demanded.  
  
"You," Cyclops said coldly as he blasted Quicksilver into a building, stunning him.  
  
As he tried to rise, Quicksilver was pinned to the wall by several of Spyke's shards. He struggled uselessly to escape, giving up when the X-Men came over to him.  
  
"Gotcha!" Spyke grinned broadly.  
  
"So? You still can't prove I did it!"  
  
"Is that a challenge, Pietro?" Spyke smirked as he pulled a recorder from his pocket and pressed Play.  
  
Pietro snarled as his confession was heard a second time.  
  
"I think we can leave this as evidence," Spyke smirked, putting the recorder on the ground between Pietro's feet, where he couldn't get it.  
  
Sirens grew closer, and the heroes called a tactical retreat. Pietro continued to struggle even as he was handcuffed and thrown into the squad car.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"Let me go! I'm innocent!" Pietro shouted in the holding cell.  
  
The police, however, paid no attention at all. He shook the bars of his cage and struggled to his limits. After a while he gave up, and sat on the bench, thinking dark thoughts of revenge.  
  
"Lucky break, Maximoff," a cop grunted as he led someone to Pietro's cell. "Your girlfriend is here to talk with you."  
  
"Girlfriend?" Pietro repeated, confused.  
  
He looked at the girl that had been left with him and started. She was the same one from the game, whose cleavage he had signed! After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she literally walked through the irons bars of the cell, making Pietro blink.  
  
"Hello, cutie," she purred. She walked up to him and leaned forward onto the bench, pinning him seductively against the wall. "Pietro, sweetie, why do you have to be such a bad boy? You know what happens to bad boys."  
  
Pietro felt his legs turn to jelly. What was this girl doing?  
  
The female began stroking a finger down his chest, letting it trail to his crotch, which she rubbed teasingly. Pietro couldn't help being turned on.  
  
"If you be a team player, maybe we can save this bad boy before he becomes a dead one," the girl went on. "But it's your choice, Pietro. Do you want to be on my team?"  
  
Pietro swallowed a couple of times before answering, "Yeah."  
  
Smirking, the girl got off of him and stepped back. "Then I suppose we can go."  
  
"How?"  
  
She grabbed his hand and led him to the wall, sticking her head through it and glancing around to make sure no one was watching. After a moment, she pulled him through and into an outside alleyway.  
  
"Shall we leave, good sir?"  
  
"Thanks, but I need to get revenge on a certain loser," Pietro thanked her, and was about to run off when a blast of ice froze the entire lower half of his body, keeping him still. "Huh?"  
  
"You owe us everything, Speedy," a boy said as he stepped out of the shadows. "Shadowcat here got you out of trouble, and you need us to keep it that way."  
  
"Who are you guys?" Pietro asked.  
  
"I'm already named, so this is Iceman," Shadowcat said, gesturing to the boy. "We belong to the Brotherhood of Mutants."  
  
"Brotherhood of Mutants, eh?" Pietro grinned. "Count me in."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Well, I hope that was some good!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	6. Old Friends

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO Goofn1: Thank you for reminding me about Lance. He'll get some glory, don't worry.  
  
TO seishi shino kasumi megumi tomoe hikari: Ask a better question.  
  
TO The Scribe: Thank you for that wonderful review.  
  
TO Yma: Original plot my foot! Wait till I finish this fic, then dare to say "Original"!  
  
TO Sandoz: Iceman will be incredibly dangerous, especially in the sequel!  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Chapter 6: Old Friends  
  
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It was just another average day for the mutants of Bayville High. The X- Men sat in one corner of the cafeteria, with the Brotherhood of Mutants sitting in the far corner, opposite them in more than one way. The heroes were busy discussing the recent recruits as best they could, feeling a little awkward due to Fred's constant shoveling of food into his mouth. Todd also kept watching the flies, and Evan just wanted to skate. In the end, Evan indeed left the table for a moment, which is when Scott started the conversation.  
  
"I believe I was saying that with Quicksilver, things have become more complicated," the field leader of the X-Men said.  
  
"Obviously," Todd said, still watching a fly. "That punk got super-speed, yo. How you gonna take him down when he's also got a head the size of Jupiter?"  
  
Scott raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey, don't you go looking at me like I'm some kinda moron, Shades," Todd warned. "I got a brain too, ya know."  
  
"I didn't say anything," Scott said.  
  
"Aw, rats," Fred groaned. "I finished my hoagie in only two bites again!"  
  
The others gave a collective groan. Jean rubbed her forehead, which alerted Scott instantly.  
  
"Jean, you feeling okay?"  
  
"I'll be just fine," she said through gritted teeth. "It'll pass."  
  
"Let's hope," Lance said. "Jean is having more head trouble than I do, and I can get killer migraines from using my powers too much."  
  
"You get migraines from stomping those flatfeet of yours?" Todd asked, leaning in close to Lance in a comical way.  
  
"Todd!" Lance hissed. This caused Rogue to giggle.  
  
At that moment, Evan came back, kicking up his board and stopping himself. He seemed not to care at all for Jean, who was still carefully rubbing her forehead.  
  
"Hey guys, what's up?" he asked casually, taking a seat next to Fred.  
  
"Other than Attack of Jean's Headache Part 74, not much," Lance smirked.  
  
"That wasn't funny, Lance," Scott said darkly.  
  
"So sue me," the rock-tumbler snorted. "Even you have to admit how frequent and draining these little mind-busters are. My migraines are looking pale compared to what Red here is going through."  
  
"He's right, man," Todd piped in. "Jean here got some serious issues, yo. It don't look like she's getting over her issues none too soon, either."  
  
"Does anybody have a spare hoagie?" Fred asked hopefully, causing everyone to groan again.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Meanwhile, at the Brotherhood table, things were getting interesting.  
  
Kitty had been watching the X-Punks ever since the heroes had sat down to eat. From what she had been able to observe, Jean's headaches were becoming more troublesome than before, and might incapacitate her for a while. Such a thing would help the Brotherhood greatly, since Jean was one of Xavier's heavier hitters. Her telepathy and telekinesis made a lethal combination in battle.  
  
It was also obvious that Fred, the Blob, was possibly becoming unstable. Though he was an X-Man, his appetite seemed to rule his life. Kitty had no trouble whatsoever assuming that it wasn't easy sustaining a body mass like Fred's, especially when his mutation revolved around his weight.  
  
Scott Summers was becoming somewhat annoyed with Lance Alvers, from Kitty's gatherings. The leader of the X-Men acted competitively whenever Lance did something Scott didn't agree with, and that made Scott want to prove himself right. Kitty supposed that Mystique and Magneto would be able to use this info against the X-Geeks, since she herself was no real genius when it came to devising plans to turn people to the other side. She was a soldier, and did what she was told.  
  
Lance, everything considered, was starting to become something of a leader himself. He was doing his best to make himself right around Scott, and to prove his worth every chance he got. It was obvious that his rivalry with Scott would develop into something the Brotherhood could use to their advantage, so Kitty made a mental note to tell her leaders about her observations.  
  
Evan was standing out any way he could. Kitty knew the boy had to be going through some kind of inner trial now, with everyone around him having better powers, or whatever he thought. Pride was his weakness due to his longstanding rivalry with Pietro. That could be used as well.  
  
Todd, though, seemed to have very few weaknesses. Other than being generally disliked at school, there was practically nothing the Brotherhood could exploit from the boy. The only answer she could think of was to make it seem like Kurt was trying to take Todd's place in the X-Men, which would leave Todd looking for a new home, and new teammates and friends. But that wouldn't work, because not only did Kitty love Kurt, but also because Mystique would hardly let her son fall to the enemy.  
  
At that, Kitty glanced sidelong at Kurt, who stared at Todd with a smoldering look in his eyes. Kitty knew the German mutant severely disliked the American, but even she wasn't so evil as to use that to manipulate his affections. She honestly loved Kurt, but not in the mushy sense, like everyone would most likely be thinking.  
  
Leaning over to her boyfriend, the valley girl whispered, "Don't worry, Kurt. We'll get them soon enough. They can't possibly get all the trump cards out there."  
  
Kurt didn't bother looking at her as he replied, "We better. I won't be beaten by a bunch of self-serving pinheads who think that the world won't point a giant gun at us if it had the chance."  
  
Kitty smiled. "I know, Kurt. But Bobby is worth a few trump cards, I'm sure. I mean, look at him: He has enough cold power to knock over New York. We play our cards right, and they'll all be trumps."  
  
Pausing, she leaned in closer to whisper directly into his ear, "And so will we."  
  
Still gazing at his enemies, Kurt smiled slowly.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Pietro, who had been watching the whole thing, shook his head. Kitty was a lovable girl, in an evil kind of way, but she turned as cold as Drake did whenever he tried to hit on her. A lot of people thought that her attraction to him was either his powers, or because he was a star basketball player, like Evan.  
  
'Daniels, you loser,' he mentally sneered, glaring at the X-Men's table. 'Once me and the others get through with you, you'll either be dead or you'll be our slaves.' Pietro smirked at that. He would seriously enjoy ordering Evan around, especially after having taken that humiliating loss when Daniels had first battled Pietro alongside the X-Men.  
  
But it really was too bad Kitty didn't want much of anything to do with Pietro. He had greatly enjoyed signing her cleavage at the game, and had even liked it when she had come onto him in the police station. True, she had been toying with him, but he didn't mind. In fact, it made her seem all the more seductive to him, and he loved to seduce a seducer.  
  
'But she loves the elf, and if I break Kurt's heart, Mystique'll break my neck.'  
  
Pietro shuddered at that. Even though every Brotherhood mutant answered to Magneto, Mystique never allowed anyone to tell her what to do in regard to her son. If Kurt had problems, she dropped whatever it she was busy with to help him solve them. It didn't matter that the entire mutant race might suffer; she loved her son. Besides, it seemed obvious as to why she would do that: How was the Brotherhood supposed to pretend like they cared for all mutants when they ignored the ones in their ranks?  
  
Pietro himself was a living example of that. He had known Magneto---and the man beneath the helmet---forever, since he was a child. The mutant overlord had visited the speedster at times, but had left the boy to learn independence. It didn't bother Pietro then, and it didn't bother him now.  
  
'But what does bother me is getting a girl of my own,' he thought, still watching Kitty and Kurt. 'I really need to check out the local girls.'  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
At the Institute, Charles Xavier was reading quietly when he abruptly conversed with an old friend.  
  
Magneto had long ago designed his helmet with protection from psychics, so the telepathic leader of the X-Men did not detect the magnetic mutant's approach. The only warning Xavier did receive was the sudden grabbing of his wheelchair. He was jerked around, barely able to keep from being thrown from his seat. Magneto threw open the balcony doors, hovering as he released the Professor.  
  
"Magnus," Xavier gasped.  
  
"Hello, Charles," Magneto replied. He floated down into the study, taking a seat near the fire. He was as confident as though he were on his own turf. "I was hoping to speak with you of several things, one of which are the two armies we are building."  
  
Xavier rolled nearer his old friend. "Magnus, I admit that, while your sudden appearance here is not unwelcome, it is at least unexpected."  
  
"I try to keep people guessing, Charles."  
  
"And this conversation you expect to have?"  
  
"We're getting old, Charles. Waging war is not what it used to be. Even though we are both possessed of great strengths, it is the children who will fight for us after we have passed on."  
  
"I thought you came to speak of many things?"  
  
Magneto smiled. "I did. Allow me to change the subject; I simply wanted that little bit out before we began discussing anything else."  
  
"I see."  
  
"How about romance, Charles? I know about your little secret, but do you know about mine? She's quite lovely, Charles. I hope you take great care of her...because if you do not, I most certainly will."  
  
The Professor's usual character vanished instantly, and in its place was a dark figure, an angry person who defended whatever he had. In many ways, this new side of Xavier was like Magneto.  
  
"Do not mention the keeper of my heart in such a manner, Erik," he warned, cold and dark in tone. "Do not do so ever again. Old friends though we may be, there is a line."  
  
Magneto chuckled. "Relax, Charles. I was merely stating that I can be counted upon for such things."  
  
"I would hardly entrust any of that to you, Magneto."  
  
"And yet I would give you my children if I had to, Charles. In fact, I have already done half of such a deed."  
  
"I still would not give you such a thing," Xavier said coldly. "None of them are worth it."  
  
"Your children would only prosper with my guiding hand, Charles," Magneto assured. "All of them. Including---"  
  
"Do not mention h---!"  
  
Xavier caught himself before he said anything harsh. Magneto was provoking him, he realized. Taking a deep breath, Xavier cleared himself of anger.  
  
"I believe you have worn out your welcome, old friend," he told the Master of Magnetism. "I myself have chores to do."  
  
"Then I shall see you later, Charles," Magneto said before departing.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
At the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House later that night, Mystique was pondering the future when the woman who saw it arrived.  
  
A knock on the door, a few strides, and Mystique found herself embracing the familiar form of Irene Adler. The old woman was a passive-aggressive member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, known as Destiny. With the ability to see into the future, she was a very powerful ally. Mystique never dared tell anyone that Irene was her only real friend.  
  
"Irene, how was your trip here?" the metamorph asked, having changed appearances back to Raven Darkhölme.  
  
"Well, as I foresaw it," the blind precog replied. "But while we are on the subject of me being here, I need to tell you that very reason."  
  
Raven cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Do go on."  
  
"Before I left the South to come see you, I suffered a shaking vision."  
  
Raven blinked. Her friend rarely experienced visions that left her dazed, or even confused or puzzled---but to be shaken? The metamorph had a feeling that it had to have been a very powerful vision, one that depicted a very powerful future.  
  
"Tell me more."  
  
"I saw both the X-Men and the Brotherhood working together," Irene said, startling Raven. "I saw that we would face very powerful enemies in the future, and that we would be tested to our limits."  
  
"This sounds very bad," Raven said, standing up and beginning to pace. "I don't like powerful enemies."  
  
"There's more," Irene said gravely. When Raven had sat down, she continued. "My vision revealed to me that the Brotherhood would become extremely powerful. We would gain a new ally, one through whom power is nearly, if not utterly, limitless."  
  
Raven said nothing for a moment. 'A new ally, with that kind of power? But there are only so many I know of like that: Storm, Cyclops, Avalanche, and Xavier. The last would never join us in the way that I am thinking, and the same goes for Storm. Avalanche might, but Cyclops is too devoted to the X-Men and Xavier to turn.'  
  
She went on thinking, until she got another answer.  
  
"Rogue!" the metamorph grinned. "You're telling me that Rogue will defect to our side and help us become a power to be reckoned with?" When Irene did not respond immediately, Raven cackled. "I knew I'd get it! With Rogue's mutation, she can absorb any number of powers! When this vision comes to pass, the Brotherhood of Mutants will finally set things right in the world!"  
  
She froze, abruptly, at the stony expression on Irene's face.  
  
"I was not speaking of Rogue," the woman said. "This mutant has a power that can dominate the universe."  
  
"But who?" Raven asked. "There's no one alive with that kind of power!"  
  
"But there is, my dear Mystique, and they will use it," Irene said ominously.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Hope that was some good!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	7. Whammy

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO todd fan: Only Ultimate Forge is any good, the others suck!  
  
TO The Scribe: I had Bobby in a solo scene, much like Pietro's, but it got deleted when I switched hard drives on my computer. Sorry, and thanks for the great news!  
  
TO CrimsonCoyote: Glad you got interested.  
  
TO kiki: Apocalypse sucks! Glad you like Kitty's evil side. As for the Jean and Xavier's issues, I'll deal with those in the next few chapters, with some totally mind-blowing content!  
  
TO furygrrl: I might do the Lean (Lance/Jean) pairing now that you suggested it, but not for a while, since it actually conflicts with my plotted ideas. Also, alternate romantic pairings will take place, as the KURTTY shows.  
  
TO Rilo: Wanda will make some waves, but not for a while.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 7: Whammy  
  
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Stokes County Maximum Prison was the only place that, allegedly, could possibly house the unstoppable. The place had been designed to handle dangerous people, and it served this purpose like only the wildest of dreams would have predicted.  
  
Layers of security measures made sure no unauthorized person got so far as ten paces before they were stopped. Solid steel doors, ten inches of metal each, along with a retinal scanner and extending bridge, held both you at a distance and your objective. Of course, that wasn't even mentioning the fluid that caused, for lack of better terminology, "suspended animation." Beyond all that, there were only some fences, lights, guns, sirens, and guards.  
  
Captain Freeman had no trouble getting in.  
  
Holding his eye up to the machine, he allowed his retina to be scanned. With a beep, the machine confirmed his identity and the segmented steel door irised open. He entered, the door sealing itself when he was through. After only a few paces, though, he stopped again and waited for the bridge to extend to the other side. When it had, he crossed, slipping in his ID card and gaining access to the inmate he was looking for.  
  
After entering a few commands on the control panel, Freeman watched as the large shaft in the center of the room rose up, revealing a tall and heavily- built man inside a tube, which was filled with green fluid. Keying a final command, Freeman began talking to the fellow.  
  
"Welcome back, Cain," he said, even as his voice changed to that of a woman. "Or should I call you...Juggernaut?"  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
The paralysis fluid emptied fairly quickly, though the paralysis itself took a moment longer. Cain had only enough strength to muster a vicious scowl when Mystique mentioned his brother, Xavier.  
  
"Charles has been a very busy person since he imprisoned you here, Cain," the metamorph chatted calmly as she retrieved Juggernaut's helmet. "He has a small force of 'superheroes' that does his bidding. All things considered, they're quite powerful. I bet they could even beat you."  
  
That last part made Cain growl.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked.  
  
"Only a request, really," Mystique answered. "You can do whatever you want to Xavier and his X-Men, but I wish for you to make sure not to damage a rather useful device in his possession. My employer would not like that."  
  
"And why should I even care what you want?"  
  
"True," Mystique agreed. "You could probably kill me right now with little trouble, but that would be a waste. Other than myself, who do you know is willing to repeatedly free you from prison? I'm a very sneaky individual, and I can do things like this a lot. Besides, my organization won't fight you, and will help you if you want it."  
  
"I don't need anyone's help," Cain growled.  
  
"Only time will tell. So, what do you say, Juggernaut? An unspoiled chance at revenge in exchange for a valued machine?"  
  
"Just don't get in my way," Juggernaut told the woman. He took a couple of massive strides, reached the door...and then began to break out of prison.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"Man, do you understand this?" Todd asked, showing Fred the Algebra problems.  
  
Fred shook his head. "Nope. I'm still struggling with English and those darned antecedents."  
  
Todd groaned, dropping his head into the book's pages. "I'm never gonna get this, yo!"  
  
'Attention, X-Men,' Xavier's voice said telepathically. The suddenness caused Fred to give a slight start, and made Todd jump out of his chair and onto the floor.  
  
'Oh, it's just you,' the Toad thought, relieved.  
  
'Well, it certainly isn't God,' Xavier chuckled. 'Anyway, I want you all in the study so that I may discuss something with you.'  
  
The psychic presence vanished, and the two mutants shrugged, putting away their school materials and heading up to the Professor's study. When Todd and Fred arrived, they found Jean, Rogue, Evan, Lance and Scott already there, along with the instructors. The Professor began speaking when everyone was seated.  
  
"Now, I have decided that all of you need to go through something of a 'survival course,' and have chosen for you to attend Camp Ironback."  
  
A collective groan went around, and the pupils began speaking up.  
  
"But Professor, isn't that a little harsh?" Scott asked. "I mean, that place is supposed to be tough!"  
  
"Which is precisely the reason the Professor wants you sent there," Ororo explained. "It's either Camp Ironback, or a week with Wolverine."  
  
What color was in the students' faces vanished, and they all looked like Rogue.  
  
"But---isn't there any other way out of this?" Todd begged. "That place'll kill us, yo!"  
  
"You don't really want survival training with Logan, do you?" Xavier asked.  
  
"Yes!" they all pleaded.  
  
"Very well," the Professor nodded. "I'll just file the absentee papers to the school. When the week is up, we'll see whether or not you're tougher than the Brotherhood."  
  
Though the X-Men had been rising from their seats, they froze upon hearing the name of their rivals. They sat back down, and immediately struck up a new conversation.  
  
"The Brotherhood's going to Ironback?" Lance said incredulously.  
  
"But those guys hardly have what it takes!" Rogue said. "Even I can see that! The only ones on the team with any chance of survival are Quicksilver and Shadowcat."  
  
"Ahem," Todd said.  
  
"And Nightcrawler," Rogue added promptly.  
  
"But that's the entire Brotherhood, Rogue," Jean reminded the Goth.  
  
"Oh, right, sorry," the other girl apologized.  
  
"So, do I take it you all have changed your minds?" Xavier asked.  
  
"That's right!" Todd cried. "We will not be beaten, for we are the X-Men, yo!"  
  
Everyone looked at him.  
  
"What?" he asked innocently.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
As things turned out, Ironback wasn't so horrible.  
  
It was worse.  
  
Lining up, backs perfectly straight, the X-Men and the Brotherhood stood just beyond the bus that had driven them to the training camp. The place wasn't exactly one of those boot camps, but it was just as hard. The camp's boss was named Bracken, and the dude was built like a truck. He wore sunglasses, which made the X-Men think he was always glaring at them.  
  
"Welcome to Camp Ironback," Bracken greeted the teams. "While you are here, you will all learn the value of hard work, teamwork, and become stronger. Of course, that's the speech I give to every group of sorry good- for-nothings that comes through here. In short, the strong will be culled from the weak, and those same weak will be sent home in boxes."  
  
Todd, Fred, and Lance all gulped.  
  
"Now, because of his outstanding scholastic achievements, Scott Sumners has been chosen as field leader, though every single person here ultimately answers to me. Is that clear?" Bracken had said Scott's name wrong, which made the youth feel a tad annoyed.  
  
"Sir, yes, sir!" they all barked back, though the Brotherhood sounded less impressed.  
  
"You have thirty minutes to stow your belongings and get settled in, because when the time is up, the training begins. Dismissed!"  
  
Bracken marched off back to his office, and the two teams gathered their personal bags. Rogue watched the Brotherhood stalk off to one cabin, noticing one boy linger behind. He was rather cute, with light brown hair and brown eyes (AN: That's the official Marvel Web site bio).  
  
"Rogue?" Lance asked, waving a hand in front of her face.  
  
She started. "Sorry, I just...who is that?"  
  
"Who is who?" Fred asked, coming over.  
  
"That boy, over there," Rogue said, pointing.  
  
"You mean the one following the Brotherhood?" Jean asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I don't know. I've never seen him before, not even at school," Scott told the others.  
  
"Yeah, me neither," Evan agreed.  
  
"Wonder who he is," Todd said. "Maybe his parents wanted him to be toughened up like the Prof wants with us, eh?"  
  
"Maybe," Fred grunted. "Can we just get this over with?"  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
After the thirty minutes were up, the two teams again lined up and were inspected by Bracken.  
  
"Your first task will be to climb to the top of this rope and grab the key placed there," the instructor explained. "Once that is done, the chosen team member will then make his or her way to the lake edge, free the boat, get in the boat, and paddle to the flag-marked spot over yonder."  
  
"Do we know who's going for us?" Rogue asked.  
  
"Fred can't, obviously," Lance said. "And Todd gets seasick."  
  
"I won't do it," Jean said flatly.  
  
"Man, I'm a city kid," Evan put in.  
  
"I got my rep as a Goth," Rogue stated.  
  
"Fine, I'll do it," Scott said. "We'll show those guys."  
  
"Okay, you sound way too enthusiastic," Lance said to Scott. "That means I'm doing it."  
  
"No way, Lance! I'm pulling rank!"  
  
"Did any of you hear how Scott Summers fell down that huge crevice and ruined his wonderful car?" Lance asked, feigning concern.  
  
Giving the other boy a dark look, Scott said, "Fine, you do it, tough guy."  
  
"Thank you," Lance said, acting openly snobbish and causing the girls to giggle.  
  
Strutting over to the ropes, Lance pretended to spit on his hands, getting ready. The Brotherhood had sent Pietro as their member.  
  
"On my mark!" Bracken called. "Get ready---Get set---GO!"  
  
At the command, Lance leapt onto the rope, scrambling up as fast as he could go. In only a moment, he had reached the key and dropped to the ground, shrugging off the brief pain and disorientation, practically lunging for the lakeside.  
  
Unfortunately, Pietro wasn't called Quicksilver for nothing. He was already halfway across the lake, and had immediately stopped upon seeing Lance hit the ground. It was all too apparent what the speedster was doing: He was mocking the X-Men, and Lance in particular.  
  
Fueled by a new drive, the rock-tumbler moved faster, determined to win---  
  
And he slipped without warning on a frosty patch of grass. Cursing himself royally, he got back up and moved at twice his normal speed. Getting the lock off, Lance pushed away from the shore and made haste.  
  
"Hey, Lance, my grandmother moves almost as slow as you!" Pietro sniped.  
  
"Too bad you can't think of anything a fifth-grader can!" Lance shot back, making Pietro's face contort with anger.  
  
"You'll regret that, Alvers!"  
  
Without a second thought, Lance sent his tremor energy out, causing the water around Pietro's raft to suddenly become violent. The boy was thrown out and thoroughly soaked. Pushing ahead, Lance won his team the victory.  
  
But with every party comes a party pooper.  
  
"You used your powers, Lance!" Scott berated. "You shouldn't have done that!"  
  
"So?" Lance challenged. "Pietro used his! All's fair in love and war, Scott!"  
  
"Hey!" another voice interrupted: The Brotherhood had come over, with a very wet Pietro front and center. "That wasn't very nice of you, Alvers!"  
  
"Blow me," Lance said coldly.  
  
"Watch it, punk!" Kurt growled, stepping forward. "Or I just might show you all why I'm so dangerous!"  
  
"Dangerous?" Todd laughed. "You're 'bout as dangerous as day-old chili."  
  
"At least he smells decent!" Kitty barked.  
  
This set off an enormous argument, one that attracted Bracken. Storming over, the camp boss pushed the two teams apart.  
  
"What's going on here?" he demanded. "You kids want to prove something to each other, then do it up there!" He pointed to the mountain in the distance. "That, boys and girls, is Mount Humiliation. First team that reaches the top and takes a picture with the flag in their possession wins. Simple task for simple people.  
  
"Now get moving."  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Logan shook his head. "You really should have let me take them out for a week, Chuck."  
  
Xavier smiled. "I gave them that choice, Logan, but you yourself were there when they changed their minds."  
  
"You could have changed them back."  
  
Xavier chuckled. "One day, perhaps."  
  
"What's Ororo doing?" Logan asked.  
  
"She's talking with her sister about the camp trip and Evan's chances of survival. Apparently, his mother thinks he won't last very long."  
  
Logan laughed. "City slickers never do."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Can't believe we agreed to no powers!" Kitty cursed. "Pietro, the minute we get back, I am having Kurt replace you as field leader!"  
  
"Ha ha, now shut up and keep climbing," the other ordered.  
  
The girl thankfully did as told. The whole climb hadn't been for very long, since the Brotherhood had been using Kurt's teleportation powers to get as far as possible. They had managed to reach the halfway point, and were almost to the three-quarter mark. When they made it there, Pietro called a momentary rest.  
  
"Man, this is hard work," he grumbled. "Bobby, you think you could cool us down or maybe make an ice-slide to reach the top faster?"  
  
Upon being addressed, the Brotherhood's loner turned to face Pietro, and the speedster knew he had made a very large mistake. Stalking over, Bobby grabbed Pietro's shirtfront, pulling him close and speaking in a scary, chilling voice.  
  
"If you ever talk to me like that again, I'll give you the worst case of frostbite ever!"  
  
He pushed Pietro away, and the Brotherhood's field leader heard the snickers from Kurt and the giggles from Kitty. His face burned.  
  
'No wonder it's called Mount Humiliation.'  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"Come on, Fred!" Scott called down. "You can make it!"  
  
"Stop telling me that!" the massive mutant yelled back. "It makes me nervous!"  
  
"Told you we shoulda just used our powers," Todd commented.  
  
"You're not helping," Jean said.  
  
After two long minutes of nothing but grunting, Fred hauled himself onto the flat three-quarter point. (AN: Both teams are at similar spots like in the show, you know?) He lay on his back for a moment, panting heavily.  
  
"Uh, aren't you supposed to have superhuman strength?" Rogue asked.  
  
"Tell that to gravity," Fred panted.  
  
"Guys, we're almost there!" Scott said, sounding four hundred times as eager to win as ever.  
  
Lance put a hand over his mouth and whispered to Jean, "You're current boyfriend's a little nuts."  
  
"Shush!" she hissed back.  
  
"Todd, you think you can check and see if the flag's still there?" Scott asked, sounding as though the only answer were "Yes."  
  
Todd raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, yo. That's cheatin'."  
  
"You'd only be checking!" Scott tried to reason.  
  
"Scott, calm down!" Jean advised.  
  
"Yeah, Scott, calm down," Lance agreed, putting an arm around Jean's shoulders---which she promptly removed. "Damn, and I was so close."  
  
"But we can win this thing!" Scott said, starting to sound a little more than completely psychotic.  
  
"That's it, man," Evan said. "I'm telling the Prof you got major white-boy issues."  
  
"Guys, shouldn't we be going after the flag and not each other's throats?" Fred asked, having gained his second wind.  
  
"Fred's right," Jean nodded, rubbing one temple. "We need to focus on the real goal here."  
  
Without waiting for a response to her statement, Jean began climbing up the rest of the way.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Thank God!" Pietro cried happily, mock-kissing the ground. "We finally reached the top!"  
  
Kitty and Kurt rolled their eyes, but Bobby only glowered coldly at Pietro. When he was finished rejoicing, the young mutant jerked a thumb over one shoulder, indicating the flag.  
  
"Since we still have the camera, we can take our group picture and win this little contest. Those X-Beyotches won't know what hit them! They'll know true humiliation and---and they're right behind me, aren't they?"  
  
"Yep," Kitty said.  
  
Whirling, Pietro flashed a fake yet cocky smile at his enemies. "So, you chumps finally made it? Took ya long enough."  
  
"Save it, Quickloser," Lance sniped.  
  
Pietro's face flushed.  
  
"Well, this could be a problem," Todd observed. "Rival teams, one flag, no beer---It's gonna be a long day, baby."  
  
Everyone looked at him again.  
  
"What?" he complained.  
  
"I guess this means we have to fight for it," Pietro said, and the Brotherhood got ready, save for Bobby, who acted as if nothing could change his perpetually cold attitude.  
  
Rogue blinked, finally realizing that Bobby was actually standing there. She had been more focused on Pietro and the other two. "You're with the Brotherhood?" she asked, stunned.  
  
"The name's Iceman," Bobby introduced himself without a hint of emotion. "And this 'fight' won't last long at all."  
  
The two teams tensed, prepared to battle it out---  
  
When, without warning, a high-pitched engine filled their ears, and the wind picked up. Startled, they all turned to see Storm piloting the Blackbird, her face serious.  
  
"X-Men, Professor Xavier is in danger---and so is Mystique. You need to help."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Can't BELIEVE we forfeited that victory to the Brotherhood!" Scott cursed. "We had it!"  
  
Jean, sitting in one of the seats, rubbed her head, her earlier headache coming back much stronger than before, and all thanks to Scott's whining.  
  
"That is not important, Cyclops," Storm said sharply. "We have bigger problems: Wolverine is dealing with the threat while trying to protect the Professor, but he won't last forever."  
  
"Who is this threat?" Todd asked.  
  
"His name is Juggernaut. He's the Professor's malevolent brother," Storm answered. "The maniac is bent on destroying everything Professor X has worked for."  
  
"And probably the Professor too," Rogue said sourly. "I don't get it, though: The Brotherhood was almost overjoyed that we were running off. They didn't want to help Mystique. You think they're up to something?"  
  
"Maybe they think she can handle herself?" Fred suggested.  
  
"With her skills, I don't doubt that," Scott said. "Come on, Storm. We need to get there."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"You're right, Charles: This is the end...for you," Juggernaut said coldly as he strode closer.  
  
"You've never understood, Cain...and you never will," Xavier sighed as he watched his executioner approach.  
  
Juggernaut didn't bother hiding the smile on his face as he reached forward, eager to crush the Professor's puny body---  
  
But he never got the chance.  
  
An invisible force lifted him up and pulled him away, rotating him around in midair. For a second, he was frozen there, and got a good look at the people who had stopped him: The X-Men, clad in battle garments.  
  
"Oh please," Juggernaut mocked. "You don't scare me any more than the runt did."  
  
"We don't have to," Cyclops replied, firing an optic blast and sending Juggernaut into the far wall.  
  
"Finally, some rescuers," Mystique said sarcastically.  
  
"Would you rather have been murdered?" Xavier asked. In the moment it took the woman to reply, Xavier felt a great weight on his chest, and also experienced the dark burn of guilt and shame. 'Perhaps I should have told h---' He broke himself off. In a situation like this, thinking about matters like that was possibly fatal.  
  
"Of course not," Mystique snapped.  
  
Not saying anything in return, Xavier resumed watching the battle, as did Mystique.  
  
Juggernaut had gotten out of the impression made in the metal wall from his impact, and was now charging at Blob. The obese mutant braced for the inevitable collision. His mutant powers would protect him from some harm, but against the Juggernaut, he wouldn't leave unscathed.  
  
With a thick smack, the two hit, and Blob was sent careening across the room, rolling and sliding until he slammed into a wall and stayed there. Jean used her telepathy to confirm he was fine, and then went back to the fight.  
  
Spyke was using his powers to blind Juggernaut, the bone shards splintering as they hit against the madman's helmet. Holding up a hand to block the attacks, Juggernaut charged again, swiping at the smaller figure with his free arm. Spyke dodged, forced to momentarily give up the chance to continue battling.  
  
"His helmet!" Xavier yelled. "Remove it!"  
  
"On it, Professor!" Cyclops responded. Releasing several short, precise blasts, he circled Juggernaut, attempting to confuse the rampaging criminal.  
  
But Juggernaut was no one's fool. Demonstrating his own mutant abilities, he ripped a fistful of metal from the floor itself and threw it at Xavier.  
  
"No!" Cyclops cried.  
  
Amazingly, the chunk halted halfway to its target, and a bolt of lightning blew it aside. Scowling, Juggernaut glanced at Jean and Storm, marking them as his next victims. He then took advantage of Cyclops' lack of motion, grabbing up the youth and throwing him straight at a wall. Again, Jean reached out to save a life.  
  
"Told you ya didn't scare me," Juggernaut laughed.  
  
Before he could get back to fighting, however, a wad of green slime hit his helmet and obscured his view.  
  
"What the?" he managed to swear.  
  
"And that's why I'm the Toad, yo!" the small mutant informed the larger one. Leaping onto Juggernaut's back, Toad undid the two front latches.  
  
"Not today, kid!" Juggernaut snarled, bending over swiftly and causing Toad to go flying forward.  
  
"Then how about any day, big man?" Avalanche asked, finally joining in. He had waited for the precise moment to attack, which is what the team had discussed while racing to the Professor's side. Stomping a foot, the ground-shaker caused the Danger Room floor to ripple wildly and send the unstoppable Juggernaut staggering around like a drunk. Juggernaut fell onto his stomach, and when he attempted to rise, Spyke used another bone shard to unlock a third latch.  
  
"You're really starting to make me mad!" Juggernaut roared, launching himself at Spyke, who promptly ran for his life. Just as Juggernaut closed in, he was knocked aside by a returning Blob, who flashed a satisfied grin.  
  
"I'm immovable in more ways than one," the young man told Juggernaut.  
  
"And I'm unstoppable!" Juggernaut bellowed in return. With a fierce cry, he charged Blob for the second time. However, he didn't make a second collision as Storm briefly stopped him with a lightning bolt to the chest. "That doesn't work on me!" Juggernaut snapped. "When will you learn?"  
  
"Maybe when you shut up?" Avalanche snapped back, shifting the floor underneath Juggernaut and causing the assailant to drop to his knees.  
  
And then, in a surprise move, Rogue attacked, undoing the final latch. Because Juggernaut was bent over, the heavy object fell to the floor with a metallic thud. His head's skin exposed, Rogue pressed her advantage and slapped a hand to his face, not letting go.  
  
Juggernaut cried out, and Rogue grunted, not liking his malicious personality in the least. Juggernaut tried to rise, but had extreme trouble because Rogue wasn't about to release him. She'd drain him to the end if she had to.  
  
"Get Rogue!" Cyclops ordered, and Jean used her telekinesis to pry the Goth from Juggernaut.  
  
As soon as Rogue was clear, Xavier attacked. Because telepathy wasn't a part of Cain's mutation, he had no defense from the most powerful mind- reader alive. One by one, Xavier closed down the sections of Cain's mind, forcing the vengeful man into unconsciousness. With a final grunt, Juggernaut collapsed onto the floor, not rising.  
  
"He'll be fine once he's back inside the prison," Xavier told the others. "And as for you, Mystique..."  
  
"I know when I'm not wanted," the metamorph said stiffly, moving to leave. "I owe you one, Xavier."  
  
"And I will call it in," the crippled man promised. When she was gone, he told the X-Men, "Good work. I'm amazed how well you handled the situation, despite the fact that Cain would have killed you. Some people would not have let him off as easy as he will be."  
  
"We're the X-Men, Professor," Jean said. "You taught us better than that."  
  
Xavier nodded, feeling far prouder from Jean saying the words than if Scott had. "Indeed I did. But what about the Brotherhood? I would have thought them willing to defend the life of their leader?"  
  
Avalanche shrugged. "Those sleaze-balls stayed behind for a different victory."  
  
Xavier sighed. "Well, I suppose no one is perfect. Now, let's get this mess cleaned up."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
The Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House was in a "splendid" mood that night. Each member was rather pleased at having finally beaten the X-Men at something, though it was only at getting a picture taken while holding a flag.  
  
The only ones who weren't celebrating were Mystique and Bobby. The youth, being cold in heart as well as body, had stalked upstairs upon arriving at the house, saying he despised such occasions. It was more than obvious that he wished to be left alone to his own devices.  
  
Mystique, on the other hand, did not exactly desire to be by herself. When she had gotten back, she had dialed up an "old friend" in order to confer about the Juggernaut. The man had failed to gain Cerebro, and now the Brotherhood was short one ally.  
  
"You were told what to do, Raven," Magneto said. "You performed your duties admirably."  
  
"But we did not get Cerebro!" the woman snapped. "How can you be so calm?"  
  
"Because I know more about the situation than you do, my dear. Believe you me, everything is well in hand."  
  
"Ha!" Mystique snorted. "In case you weren't informed, not only have we failed to gain any new members save for Drake, but we also are now facing a dark future."  
  
"Oh?" Magneto asked, sounding amused.  
  
"Yes!" she barked. "Destiny came in person to tell me that someone or something with immense power is waiting out there, ready to strike. She basically said we were all going to die!"  
  
This time, Magneto laughed, causing Mystique's anger to sizzle.  
  
"Stop that!" she ordered. "I do not like being laughed at!"  
  
"Mystique, I suggest you get a hold of yourself before things become unclear to you."  
  
The words made her blink, and her ire went down. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"It's quite simple, really: Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design. I expected not to gain Cerebro because of Marko's hatred."  
  
"Then all the plotting we did, the Brotherhood not coming to the rescue?" she asked.  
  
"All my planning."  
  
Mystique seethed with rage. She hated it when she was played for a fool.  
  
"Then what do we do now?"  
  
"One thing: Wait."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
White, bells, clapping, cheering, smiles, people celebrating---Rogue had no idea what was going on. Everything was happening so fast that it confused her, and she looked around for some anchor of reality to grab hold of. The random images slowly began to shape themselves into a single, coherent scene, one that Rogue recognized.  
  
She was standing in the middle of a church aisle, surrounded by people who were in nothing short of pure joy. Facing the altar, she realized who she was looking at: Professor Xavier was standing, not crippled as Rogue knew him to be, and he was filled with bliss a thousand fold greater than that of the crowd in the pews. The bride was nothing short of heavenly, especially in her gown. The whole room watched as the pair kissed, and Rogue had to admit that even she was feeling some measure of joy.  
  
And then, without warning, everything was thrown into chaos.  
  
A lone figure, much larger than anyone else, rose from a pew near the front door of the church, and stormed toward the happy couple. Terror painted everyone's faces, but no one came close to portraying the expressions of Xavier and his newlywed wife. Looming over the two, the hulking figure lifted his fists and---  
  
Rogue woke with a terrible start, breathing hard and covered in cold sweat. She had a light headache from the dream-turned-nightmare, and was wishing she had some answers to her questions. Sitting up, she rubbed her forehead, and then got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.  
  
After getting a drink, she thought the dream over. Obviously, the key players were Xavier, his wife, and the monster who attacked them. What Rogue didn't know, and wanted to know, was who the ominous figure was. It seemed familiar somehow, and filled with hatred---  
  
'Juggernaut,' she realized, her heart skipping a beat. 'The person who attacked the Professor at his own wedding was Juggernaut! I can't believe he'd do something so horrible! Then again, he was fueled by his hatred; anyone could have seen that during the fight. He must have hated the Professor so much that crippling him during the wedding would be a great form of revenge!'  
  
Rogue sighed heavily, looking at her reflection. 'Some people really are monsters. But something doesn't fit in with everything else. I can't stop feeling that, somehow, there's more to it than this.'  
  
For a long moment, the Gothic mutant studied her reflection. Not long after, she went back to bed, as plagued as ever by questions.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Damn, that was long!  
  
Up next: Romance pairings and secrets!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	8. The New Flames

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO furygrrl: You're more than welcome.  
  
TO kiki: Although Rogue totally points out the menacing figure is Juggernaut, I'm very glad you liked the chapter.  
  
TO Sandoz: I liked the review, thanks!  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 8: The New Flames  
  
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Rogue was drained as hell the next morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep after the whole Xavier's Wedding/Juggernaut's Revenge nightmare, and had drifted on and off ever since the moment she tried to catch some Z's. She had no real idea what it meant; for all she supposed, it could just be a memory of one of Juggernaut's more defining moment. But deep down, she knew it meant something much more significant than what she was thinking.  
  
Shaking off the previous night's effects, Rogue dressed for school and tried to focus on something else. While she did this, she bumped into Lance, who was putting on his black shirt, apparently having woken up a little late.  
  
"Rogue, what's up?" Lance asked, sounding confused by her appearance.  
  
"What?" she asked in turn, also becoming confused.  
  
Lance raised an eyebrow. "You mean Scott cancelled this morning training session?"  
  
Rogue froze in the hallway, causing Lance to stop as well and back up, as he had gone forward a couple of strides when she had stopped.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
Rogue clapped a hand on her forehead. "Oh, man! I completely forgot we had those! I was getting ready for school!"  
  
Lance laughed. "At 6:10 in the morning? Man, Rogue, you have to learn to remember some routine things."  
  
"Shut up, Avalanche!" she snapped as she put her things back in her room and went down to the lower levels with him, changing into her uniform while he did the same. The others were also there, replacing their regular clothes with their battle outfits. When everyone was ready, the Professor set the Danger Room to a rocky mountain range, complete with an overcast, gray sky.  
  
"Well, so much for the Five Day Forecast," Toad whistled.  
  
"Yeah, you got that right," Blob nodded. "What do we gotta do?"  
  
"Our objective is to capture that flag there," Cyclops said, pointing to the item, which was only about a hundred yards away. "We aren't to use flight, jumping or leaping, or telekinesis. This is a group operation."  
  
"So basically we're taking Camp Ironback again, only on our own turf?" Rogue asked.  
  
"Pretty much," Jean answered. "However, this will help us build teamwork and teach us to restrain ourselves, which could come in handy at times."  
  
"Great," Avalanche groaned. He suddenly perked up. "Hey, what am I complaining for? None of those limits really applies to me."  
  
"Maybe, but your powers could jeopardize the mission because you can't completely control them," Cyclops said.  
  
"Leave it to you to bring a guy down," the rock-tumbler said sourly.  
  
"Is everyone ready?" Xavier's filtered voice asked from above.  
  
"Ready, Professor!" Cyclops responded.  
  
"Begin!" came the Professor's order.  
  
Immediately, Cyclops dashed forward as he scanned the area quickly without stopping, determined to win. He had made it halfway when a large boulder began falling toward him from ahead, and he was forced to slow down in order to blast it aside.  
  
His moment while doing so, however, proved a threat in reality. A second boulder dislodged itself and rolled at him from behind, an attack he didn't notice.  
  
"Out of the way!" Blob yelled as he charged forward, grabbing up the boulder and hurling it off. "Man, this is actually pretty fun!"  
  
"Yeah, but you hafta wonder how this place looks so good when it was trashed yesterday," Toad piped in as he hopped after his massive friend. "I mean, it sure as heck didn't clean itself."  
  
"Of course not," Jean said. "Logan and Ororo helped the Professor fix up everything to a good enough level for our needs. Scott and I helped as well."  
  
"Typical," Avalanche snorted as he stomped a foot, forcing a falling boulder to go alter its course slightly and miss hitting Spyke, who had not been looking around enough.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jean asked, going pink in the face from the implications she imagined.  
  
"Think about it, Red: The Prof always has you around, and yesterday he had this subtle expression in his eyes that said, 'Now there's the kid that makes something of himself!' It was obvious."  
  
"Not to me, it wasn't!" Jean said, slightly indignant that she had not seen what Avalanche was claiming to have. She usually prided herself on nailing every beat. "What even makes you think that?"  
  
'Can't believe they're arguing while our pals are getting seriously squeezed, man,' Toad thought sourly as he glanced over at the pair from where he stood with the others.  
  
"Maybe that the Professor has something for you, and he won't admit it," Avalanche's answer came. "I've seen it before: It's the look a dad gives his son right when the kid proves he's not as stupid as he used to be. I used to get the exact opposite of that look, where the parents would give me death glares until somebody left the area."  
  
Jean forced herself to answer. "That's stupid, Avalanche, and you know it! The Professor doesn't have 'something' for me anymore than Ororo does. It's just that he cares about us, and you aren't willing to admit that!"  
  
Avalanche, to her immense surprise, flashed a wicked grin. "It's times like this that I know why I find myself attracted to you."  
  
Jean blinked. "What?" she sputtered.  
  
Before the boy could answer, Cyclops yelled, "Jean, Avalanche, come on! This thing isn't going to finish itself!"  
  
Reluctantly, the two paused their conversation and hurried over to their field leader, who was using the moment to formulate a new plan.  
  
"Okay, now that we're almost to the flag, things will probably get really hard for us," Cyclops told the others. "We need a tough defense, which means Jean, Avalanche, Blob and myself on perimeter, with Spyke, Rogue, and Toad as our charges. You last three will go for the flag. Got it?" When they all nodded, he ordered them to go.  
  
This time, the rocks were just by powerful wind gusts, which every team member had to stand against, leaning into the strong weather force. Blob had barely to do so, being virtually immovable. Large boulders once again attacked, and were blasted apart by Cyclops, moved by Jean, and tossed by Avalanche and Blob.  
  
While the defenders did their job, the offensive players made for the goods. Toad, hindered by the wind, decided not to risk leaping, so he crawled on his stomach. Spyke used his powers to create some knuckle spikes, and punched them into the ground as he followed Toad's example, only he moved a little faster. Rogue, on the other hand, was forced to move rather slowly, having no "sticky" abilities of her own.  
  
After another fifteen seconds, the mission objective had been met. Xavier, Ororo, and Logan met the X-Men in the Danger Room, and everyone was looking rather pleased.  
  
"Very good, all of you," Xavier commented. "Now, it's almost time to leave for school, so I suggest you hurry up if you don't want to be late."  
  
Everyone did just that, although Jean lingered behind after grabbing her school stuff from her bedroom. She went to the Professor's study, knocking on the door.  
  
"Come in, Jean," he called.  
  
She entered, looking around for a second to see if anyone else was in there. "Professor, could I ask you something?"  
  
"Certainly, Jean," he smiled.  
  
"Yesterday, after we defeated Juggernaut, and I spoke to you, I got a sense of what you were feeling, and it---it sort of puzzled me, Professor. I normally only feel these things from you when Scott's saying something like what I said, or when he vindicates your philosophy or something. And today, during the session, Lance and I got into an argument over what I just mentioned. I was just hoping you could help me clear this up."  
  
Xavier smiled at her. "Of course, Jean. I was simply proud that you had taken such a lesson so well. Scott does that with everything I teach him. I'm afraid he's become something of a fanatic of sorts. Hearing those words from you broke a kind of cycle, and made obvious that at least more than one of my students believes what I tell him or her."  
  
Jean smiled, relieved. "Thanks, Professor. I should go now."  
  
When she was gone, Xavier rolled toward his balcony window doors, taking in the lovely view. He made sure his mind was unreadable as he thought.  
  
'Why?' he asked himself. 'First Magnus, and now Lance Alvers. Everyone out there knows something about it.' He sunk lower into his wheelchair.  
  
'Why must I do such horrible things? Why must I commit such unforgivable deeds? Why can't I just have peace?'  
  
No one answered his questions.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
At Bayville High, Lance was just rounding a corner when he bumped into someone he did not really feel like speaking to.  
  
"Watch where you're going, Alvers!" Kitty Pryde snapped as she picked up her fallen books. "Even Pietro can walk better than you, and that head of his is so huge it makes such a task nearly impossible."  
  
Lance frowned as he got up. "Watch yourself, Pryde. You're not so perfect."  
  
Kitty glared at him. "What?"  
  
"You act like a real jerk most of the time, you know that? I'm amazed you got that elf as your boyfriend. What's the matter: Couldn't find someone with less issues than you have?"  
  
Kitty's dark look got a whole lot darker. "Listen, Lance, I don't need dating advice from you of all people, since you don't even have a girl."  
  
"Once I nail Jean Grey I will," Lance retorted.  
  
Kitty laughed. "As if. She'd never go out with you, Alvers. She's far too busy toying with Mathews and Summers to manipulate a third Romeo."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
Kitty nodded. "You bet."  
  
"Then I suppose you want to be my girlfriend?"  
  
Kitty doubled over, laughing heavily. "Get real! We're enemies, Lance! We are not, under any circumstances, supposed to date. Besides, you could never handle someone as fragile as myself."  
  
Lance snorted. "That's what you think."  
  
"It is!" Kitty said, going pink.  
  
"Then how about a bet?"  
  
Kitty waved a hand in dismissal. "I don't make bets."  
  
"Fine. But I still say you couldn't compare to Jean's level any day of the millennium."  
  
Kitty blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Lance grinned, starting to enjoy himself. "You can't match Jean's natural beauty. You have ordinary hair, unimpressive eyes, and you're a sadistic lunatic working for an even bigger sadistic lunatic."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Kitty asked. "Then you're on, Alvers: We see how romantic we can be with each other, and whether or not we actually have what it takes."  
  
Lance grinned broadly. "Then you accept the challenge?"  
  
"Wholeheartedly."  
  
"A handshake makes it official."  
  
They shook hands, but let go quickly, as if each one were touching a scalding-hot surface.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
In fifth period History, Jean glanced over at Rogue. The Goth mutant was staring blankly at her text, not paying attention to anything. To Jean, Rogue was merely a shell of her former self, her mind in another world entirely.  
  
'What's wrong with her?' Jean asked herself. 'I should see if she's alright, since I get the feeling something is very wrong.'  
  
When the bell rang, signaling A lunch, the class got up to leave. Jean strode over to Rogue, who was always a little slow in getting to the cafeteria.  
  
"What is it, Jean?" Rogue asked when she noticed the telepath waiting at her side.  
  
"Rogue, about yesterday? I was wondering if you feel all right? If you don't, we could always help you, though you already know that."  
  
Rogue simply stared at Jean for a moment before moving towards the door. Jean moved to keep pace with her, and the Goth responded. "Yeah, I know that. I really don't feel too bad; I just have a little bit of Juggernaut's personality stuck in my head. After a while more, it should vanish, leaving me perfectly fine."  
  
Jean heaved a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. Um, Rogue, could I ask you a somewhat personal question?"  
  
"If it's my name, no."  
  
"No, nothing like that!" Jean said.  
  
"Then go ahead."  
  
"I was wondering what your opinion of Lance is."  
  
Rogue looked at Jean. "Why? There something wrong with him?"  
  
"Well, he did subtly hit on me when we were climbing Mount Humiliation. I think he's possibly in love with me."  
  
"He did say something like that during the session this morning," Rogue agreed. "But he knows both Scott and Duncan are after you, so his chances are slim to nil."  
  
Jean shrugged. "Let's both face the facts, even though they're aren't always pretty: Guys dig redheads, and I'm a redhead. That, plus I'm attractive in other areas too."  
  
Rogue looked at Jean again.  
  
"Hey, just because I admit I have a tempting body doesn't mean I'm trying to make you feel bad, Rogue. I'm not a slut, either."  
  
"That's good to know," Rogue said, a brief flash entering her mind: The bride from the memory-dream. She had been very beautiful, and Rogue could just barely pick up a link between that woman and the present. 'Ah, screw it. I just can't get over the fact that I may never touch anyone in my life. That "link" is just in my head. I need to stop being so obsessed about my mutation. I don't need to touch; I need to admit that I'm the one girl that nobody can get. If anything, my so-called link is just me feeling bad about myself. I need to stop doing that, really.'  
  
Rogue moved ahead, leaving Jean trailing behind. The telepathic girl wondered what was up with Rogue.  
  
'Especially whatever that "link" thing is,' Jean thought, and then realized she had been reading Rogue's mind. 'What's going on with me? I should have more control than this!' She sighed. 'I guess I need some practice.'  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
When Kitty arrived at the Brotherhood Boarding House, she instantly knew something was very wrong. Of course, that fact was made all the more clear by Mystique and Kurt standing side-by-side in the foyer, waiting for her. Both wore grim, cold expressions.  
  
"Hi," Kitty said weakly. "Something up?"  
  
"Very much, my dear," Mystique said, with not a trace of warmth in her voice. "My son here was just telling me about your agreement with the Avalanche boy."  
  
Kitty blinked. "What?"  
  
"You know, the one where you betray the Brotherhood and switch sides by dating an enemy."  
  
Kitty gave a weak, nervous little laugh, feeling more and more afraid of the metamorph with each passing second. "No, I didn't do that."  
  
"Oh?" Mystique asked, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "Then I suppose it was your evil twin?"  
  
Kitty forced herself to remain calm and keep a straight face. "What I meant was that I did not betray our organization by siding with the enemy, Mystique. I simply made a bet with Lance Alvers to teach him both a lesson and some manners. I thought it would be wonderful to beat him at his own game. You know I wouldn't break Kurt's heart; I love him."  
  
Mystique took a second to glance from the Northbrook girl to Kurt, who seemed impassive for the moment. Kitty hoped he wouldn't dislike her after this talk; she honestly did love him, and would never settle for anyone else.  
  
"All right, then," Mystique said. "If you really intend all this, I suppose a simple warning should suffice. Don't damage my son, Shadowcat. I am his mother, and I will play the part given to me."  
  
Kitty nodded. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Good. Now, why don't you two lovebirds go patch any remaining holes up, since I get the feeling Kurt here doesn't entirely believe you. I think you need to become emotional, Kitty; that usually helps."  
  
"Speaking of emotional," the girl said, "what's up with Iceman not having any emotions? He's always so heartless."  
  
"I was wondering about that also, Mother," Kurt spoke up. "Why is Drake such a loner, as they are called?"  
  
Mystique paused before answering, putting the answer in the right form. "To say it lightly, he feels abandoned, and practically was."  
  
"Why?" Kitty asked.  
  
"His parents committed him to an insane asylum, remember?" Mystique replied. "How would you feel if they did that and never tried to help you through it?"  
  
Kitty and Kurt exchanged a glance.  
  
"No wonder he's so solitary," Kurt said.  
  
"Now run along, son," Mystique advised. "It's Relationship Repair Time."  
  
The two did as told, both of them pushing Bobby's past from their thoughts.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Things are starting to turn interesting!  
  
Next: Another old friend comes to visit!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	9. And The Old Ones

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO The Scribe: Mystique gives a small explanation on Bobby's reason for being cold. Yes, the Lean pairing goes well. As for new members...let me think about it.  
  
TO furygrrl: I've got everyone wondering, don't I?  
  
TO kiki: The Lancitty is only temporary; he gets someone else. I don't know about Bobby.  
  
TO therogue: I can't really go on that for this fic, maybe later.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 9: And The Old Ones  
  
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Bayville International Airport received the plane at a little after ten in the morning. The passengers were grateful to have finally arrived at the destination, having spent more than enough hours trapped in the plane, and with only peanuts and a third-rate in-flight movie to entertain themselves with. To make things worse, the film was more like ninth-rate, being none other than "Gideon's Trumpet," an incredibly long and boring-as-hell movie about some old man who's accused of robbing a cigarette machine of its measly six dollars, and who is then wrongfully imprisoned. After he is freed, the real crook is jailed for three months, though the old man had to spend five years in the slammer.  
  
'That /film/ was a slammer,' the woman thought bitterly. 'What a load of garbage---and it's even based on a true story! Och, where do these "Hollywood" boobs get their ideas? A could think of a better premise for a movie than /that/!'  
  
Throwing out her empty peanut bag, the woman grabbed the handle of her pull- along suitcase and began making her way through the crowd, trying her best not to offend anyone too much as she shouldered by them.  
  
'He better have warm showers, or A'm getting a hotel room. He never was any good at the small details, always making a mistake here and there and leaving me to clean up. Och, A should have listened to me mum and gone with that nice accountant, but /no/, A had to choose the one that made me feel more than special. What a fool I was.'  
  
The woman hailed a taxi, got in, and gave the driver the address. As he took off, she kept thinking about which remark to use against the man she was looking for. He had experienced her rather scathing sense of sarcasm before, and was quite used to it since long ago. The woman was always thinking up new remarks to say, but coming up with good ones wasn't easy.  
  
'He'll expect me to say something about his lifestyle, since A always make fun of that. What he won't be expecting is if A poke fun at his haircut, or lack thereof. /That/ should earn me one of his silly little frowns.'  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
At the Institute, the X-Men had gathered around Xavier in the lower levels, with the Professor checking up on who exactly Iceman was. The young mutants had begged him since last night, and now, the following morning, Xavier had conceded to their wishes. The view screen showed Iceman's face, but little else.  
  
"Apparently, Mystique has been quite thorough in covering the identity of her young charge," Xavier mused.  
  
"Is there any information on him at all, Professor?" Scott asked.  
  
The bald man tapped a few commands, and the computer responded after a moment, presenting the desired data---or some of it, anyway. There was only a short medical report, describing his physical attributes and mentality.  
  
"He was in an insane asylum?" Fred gaped. "Whoa."  
  
"You can say that again," Todd said. "People like that got serious issues, yo."  
  
"That's for sure," Rogue agreed. "Apparently, Bobby Drake here thought he was freezing to death when his powers activated---during a picnic of all things."  
  
"How awful," Jean said sadly, reading the text. "His parents left him after admitting him? God, who would do such a thing?"  
  
'Who indeed, Charles?' Xavier's mind whispered to him. He frowned deeply, his expression darkening. 'Didn't /you/ do something much like that? We both know Magnus did, but what about St. Xavier?'  
  
"Obviously, his parents were less than happy at the fact that their only child had mental problems," Xavier said aloud to the others, clearing his mind. "He had to have felt abandoned by them, and, after spending almost four years in that dreadful place, who /wouldn't/ be less than pleased by another person's attempts at friendship? It's only natural, really."  
  
"Still, the guy was colder than absolute zero," Lance said. "Wonder what motivated him to join the Brotherhood? And why haven't we ever heard of him?"  
  
"Cerebro was only put online about three and a half years ago, Lance," Ororo answered. "And even then, it was a very early model, hardly anything compared to what we have today. If young Drake's powers manifested themselves four years ago, he would have certainly escaped our notice."  
  
"And as to his reasons for joining, we can only guess," Xavier said. "He might as well have been brainwashed by Magneto. There is any number of explanations as to why he is with our enemies, and he is perhaps the only one---if not one of a handful---who knows why he is where he is."  
  
"Now come on, gang," Logan said gruffly. "School starts in twenty, and you need to get there so you have time to waste. People young as you always like that."  
  
"That's a stereotype, man," Evan said. "Just because we're young doesn't mean we like wasting time."  
  
"And just because you know a little about Mr. Drake doesn't mean you can make assumptions as to who he is," Xavier said. "That goes for all of you: Do not make guesses around Robert Drake, because Mystique may have altered this information to manipulate us."  
  
"We understand, Professor," Scott said. "X-Men, let's go."  
  
"Does he always have to act like the top dog?" Todd asked no one in particular as the group shuffled out.  
  
Xavier closed the computer down and went to the elevator, getting off on one of the aboveground levels and heading to his study. He preferred the solitude it provided him in times like these, times when he questioned himself.  
  
Time must have passed swiftly while he sat in silence, simply thinking, because the next thing he knew, Ororo was knocking on the door. He gathered himself and acknowledged her.  
  
"There is someone who wishes to speak with you, Professor," Ororo said. "A woman who claims to be an old friend."  
  
"Really?" Xavier said. He didn't get many old friends who were women. "Send her in, please."  
  
"Certainly." Ororo ducked out, and the woman entered.  
  
Xavier's eyebrows might as well have been rockets. The two rows of body hair shot up, solely from Xavier's surprise at who the visitor was. He thought he would have recognized her mental profile, having been with her for more than a few wonderful years. He made a note to ask her why he hadn't sensed her.  
  
About Jean's height, with a mop of red hair and wearing glasses, clothed in a scarf, dark blue cotton duster, and loafers, she was still a sight for sore eyes. She carried herself confidently, and Xavier didn't miss the small smirk on the corner of her lips. The woman seated herself in a chair across from Xavier, still smirking. (AN: She looks like her Ultimate version, only with red hair.)  
  
"Moira MacTaggert, it's been more than a while," Xavier greeted. "I see you still tend to your beauty."  
  
"I see you still wax the old bowling ball," she quipped, causing Xavier to shift and frown. Moira smirked a little more.  
  
"You always were the kidder, Moira, even when we were young. But I assume you /aren't/ here to discuss the past. Is there something you need from me?"  
  
Moira nodded. "Aye, ye could say that. A was wondering what you're going to do about our little problem."  
  
Xavier cocked an eyebrow. "Our problem? I took care of everything, remember?"  
  
"Not /that/ problem, Charles, A mean the /other/ problem. The one ye /detected/ long before we had to put the chains on me problem."  
  
Xavier grimaced. "If you mean to talk about it, then just say it."  
  
Moira furrowed her brow. " 'It'?" she repeated. "Ye call yuir own---?"  
  
"Moira, I can handle things just fine here," Xavier said flatly, cutting her off. "You should go back to Muir Island and tend to the sheep."  
  
Moira dropped her jaw in amazement. She jabbed an accusing finger at Xavier. "A knew ye were getting full of yuirself here in Bayville, Charles Xavier, but this is more than A expected. Ye should be a caring man, not a cold, heartless monster. Yuir own child, and ye say only 'It.' Shame on ye, Charles Xavier."  
  
Xavier was stone-faced. "Moira, I told you that things are fine here in Bayville. The child---"  
  
"Calling our little bundle of joy 'the child' won't get me to change the subject, Charles Xavier," Moira said.  
  
Xavier closed his mouth and thought for a moment. Moira only used his name like that when she wanted her way despite whatever was going on. She had neglected to use his middle name, for which he was thankful, but he wasn't about to show his gratitude.  
  
"Moira, what do you want, really?" he asked. "I don't need you here causing trouble when there are others who do that."  
  
Moira laughed. "Ye always were a sourpuss, Charles. A came here to let ye know that A'm personally becoming involved with our child since you locked the poor dear up. You know, the baby we had /together/?"  
  
Xavier looked at the fire. "Don't remind me."  
  
Moira frowned. "Don't want to feel responsible, eh? Ye helped make the little one, Charles, and now ye're going to help me deal with what A feel coming."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
Moira shivered, which surprised Xavier. "A keep getting the impression that our little baby's going to cause a lot of destruction, Charles. A can just feel it's going to happen. God help us, it may even /be/ happening."  
  
"And you thought I'd be able to fix things again?" Xavier asked. "I had enough trouble convincing the banks to pay for the construction of the Muir Island facility. I don't want to have to pay to clean up any damage our potentially misguided offspring might wreak."  
  
Moira shook her head. "Charles, ye just donna get it: Ye /have/ to take part in what's coming. A know ye do."  
  
"Regardless, Moira, the child is doing perfectly fine. There should be no problem in handling the poor mutant."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
At school, thing could have been going smoother. Lance had to wait until Kitty was away from Kurt before he approached her with a bunch of ridiculous flowers. Though she hadn't criticized him, she might as well. Lance spent at least five minutes regretting the act.  
  
What was more, he could have sworn Jean was paying more attention to him than was usual. Even though he didn't feel the itch on his hypothalamus, which was a sign of telepathic influence, he couldn't help but suspect she was up to something. She was cast furtive glances at him from the corners of her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking, and she would hang on to practically everything he said.  
  
By the time lunch rolled around, Lance was more than a little tired.  
  
"What's up, yo?" Todd asked, eyeing Lance curiously. "Kitty Cat give you a rough time?"  
  
"You could say that. She made me follow her over half the school without a pass, and I don't like how the hall monitors treat kids without passes."  
  
"Hall Nazis," Evan muttered.  
  
"I know," Lance groaned. "What's more, I just know that Nightcrawler hates me for dating his girlfriend, even /if/ it's just a dare sort of thing."  
  
Jean rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "You know, if you weren't such a temperamental person, you wouldn't be in this mess. You were the one who made the bet out of anger."  
  
"So sue me," Lance groaned. "I don't need everyone on my case."  
  
"Yeah, guys, give him a break," Fred agreed. "Lance has perfectly good control over his hormones."  
  
Lance went red in the face. "Fred!"  
  
"What, you sayin' you /don't/?" Fred asked.  
  
Lance shook his head, plopping it onto the table as Scott and Rogue seated themselves, sitting next to each other, which made the Goth blush very faintly. Jean could easily pick up the rather obvious feeling of excitement Rogue felt at sitting next to Scott. Obviously, he was her secret crush.  
  
"So, Lance, how was your first 'while' with Shadowcat?" Rogue asked.  
  
He didn't answer. Rogue looked at Jean, who shrugged.  
  
"She ran him through the gauntlet," the redhead said.  
  
"Oh," Rogue said, realizing the situation.  
  
"How about /you/, Rogue?" Todd asked. "Have fun with Shades?"  
  
Rogue sputtered for a few seconds. When she finally managed to speak, she said, "Nothing happened, Todd. We're just friends."  
  
"Sure you are," Todd said, grinning slyly.  
  
Rogue frowned deeply at him, and he left her alone.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
For the Brotherhood of Mutants, things could also have been better. Kurt was questioning Kitty over every little thing. She knew he was probably jealous of whatever she and Lance had, but hoped to smooth it out. After all, she had chosen Kurt for life, not Lance. The rock-tumbler was just a fling for her.  
  
"Kurt, you really need to calm down," she advised.  
  
"I would if I could, Katzchen, but I can't seem to get over the fact that some foot-obsessed hero wannabe is with my girl."  
  
"Kurt, I told you, Lance is just temporary. He doesn't mean anything real to me. I'm just using him. If I grow to like him, so what? He won't come between us, so why are you fussing?"  
  
Kurt let out a deep breath. "I know you're right, Katzchen, but I never had friends growing up. Mystique was the /only/ friend I knew, the only contact I had with the entire world. Until she came to Bayville, the only person I knew of was her."  
  
Kitty raised her eyebrows. "Really? How?"  
  
"She forbade me from leaving the house we lived in, back in Germany. I learned German there, and English, everything I know I learned from her. She schooled me and everything."  
  
"That's incredible, Kurt. I bet Lance hasn't accomplished half of what you did at those ages."  
  
"I know."  
  
"What's up, guys?" Pietro asked as he zipped into his seat. "Private moment for you two or something?"  
  
"Not really," Kitty said. "Just discussing the X-Geeks."  
  
Pietro sneered. "Oh, /them/. Well, why didn't you say so? I have a few things I talked with the boss lady about regarding the X-Losers."  
  
"Oh? Pray tell," Kitty said.  
  
"I told her that Magneto wouldn't want Xavier and his drones snooping around Iceman's past, so I asked what she was going to do about it. Turns out she mangled his file to shit. He might as well be a ghost."  
  
Kitty looked impressed. "Always knew Mystique was a real good player."  
  
Pietro nodded. "But now we need to make sure no one discovers the /real/ past of Iceman. He's too valuable to us to be lost to those X-Geeks. They'd waste his potential first thing."  
  
"Will /we/ ever have to tell him?" Kurt asked.  
  
"Probably not, especially if Magneto has anything to say about it," Pietro answered.  
  
"So, what's the next move for the Brotherhood?" Kitty asked, changing the subject. "We get to rescue another of our poor, misguided brothers or something?"  
  
Pietro grinned. "Something like that."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
When the X-Men arrived at the Institute, they dumped their belongings in their individual rooms and dressed for a combat session in the Danger Room. As the young heroes, aided by Wolverine, trained below, a trio watched from above. In the control room were Professor Xavier, Ororo, and Moira. The first two were being as observant as always, but Moira seemed rather awed. She stood right near the picture windows, staring down in complete fascination as the X-Men trained.  
  
"My God," she whispered, "ye really /have/ done a lot with the children, Charles. A must say, A'm impressed."  
  
"Thank you, Moira," Xavier replied. "The X-Men have exceeded my expectations time and again. The truly are something else."  
  
Moira chuckled softly. "And we all know about our experience with 'something else,' eh, Charles?"  
  
Ororo glanced from one to the other. "What does she mean, Charles?"  
  
"That is a private matter between Moira and myself, Ororo," Xavier answered curtly. "I can't say any more than that."  
  
"Very well," Ororo said, deciding not to press the issue.  
  
When the X-Men had finished, the three went to greet them. The heroes were taxed and sweaty from the exhaustive training, but managed to be rather polite to Moira when she was introduced.  
  
"Everyone, this is Doctor Moira MacTaggert, an old friend of mine," Xavier said. "She is visiting on business from Muir Island, which is just off the coast of Scotland. I hope you all find it in your natures to be nice to her."  
  
"Of course, Professor Xavier," Scott said. "Dr. MacTaggert, welcome to Bayville."  
  
"Thank ye," Moira said. "A hope ye're not the /only/ nice one."  
  
"No, but Scott /is/ the quickest to make the Professor happy," Jean said, stepping forward and shaking hands with Moira. "I'm Jean Grey."  
  
Moira smiled brightly, apparently pleased to meet another redhead. It had to be some subconscious connection, like the whole "blondes are stupid" theory.  
  
Lance shook Moira's hand next. "Lance Alvers. They call me Avalanche."  
  
"Freddy J. Dukes, the Blob," the large mutant said as he carefully shook Moira's hand.  
  
"Todd Tolansky, the Toad," the formerly-greasy kid said.  
  
"The name's Rogue," the Goth said shortly.  
  
"A pleasure, all of you," Moira said. "Now, since A haven't slept in quite a while, A was hoping if ye'd show me to me room."  
  
"I can do that," Wolverine volunteered.  
  
"Ah, thank you, Logan," Xavier said. "Moira, you have yet to be introduced to Logan, our other instructor."  
  
"Weren't there three, Charles?" Moira asked.  
  
"Yes, well, Hank is still locked in his laboratory, doing his little experiments," Xavier replied.  
  
"Follow me," Logan said gruffly as he started for the Danger Room's door. Moira hastily hurried after him, as he had an oddly swift pace.  
  
"Now, then," the Professor said. "Moira will be staying with us for a while, though I don't know how long exactly. I want you all to be on your best behavior---and that includes eating flies in front of her."  
  
"I'm /way/ ahead of you, big man," Todd said.  
  
"Good. Moira and I have a relationship that is somewhat strained presently, and having you people irritate her is the last thing I need." He turned around and rolled towards the door. "Oh, and I suggest you all start on your homework, since you have plenty of it."  
  
The mutants gave a collective groan.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Well, the plot thickens yet again!  
  
Next: The others wonder about Rogue's recently-acquired memories while Lance and Kitty make a decision!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	10. Spread The Word

Altered Fates  
  
By Blackheart Syaoran  
  
AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  
  
TO Sandoz: Your idea, sadly, won't work for this fic. Maybe the sequel (which will NOT be coming out soon; much later.)  
  
TO sylvester: Interesting comment about the headaches, but thanks for the review.  
  
TO Lillian: I'm sorry to say that the Lean pairing won't last in this fic; it conflicts with what I have planned. Sorry again.  
  
TO Yma: Yes, Kurt has an image inducer, compliments of Mystique and Magneto.  
  
TO furygrrl: Thank you very much for the praise. It made me feel so appreciated.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 10: Spread The Word  
  
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That very night, while everyone else slept soundly, Jean Grey was caught in an unusual dream, one that could hardly be described as a nightmare because it was far too abnormal. Jean twitched and underwent spasms as she dreamt, mumbling half-formed words and tossing her head to and fro, along with clutching and releasing the covers.  
  
Beneath their membrane covers, her eyes were moving more rapidly than normal. Jean's breathing was quick, almost as though she had been startled and was recovering her wind.  
  
Caught up in the dream, she saw some very strange things.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Jean opened her eyes halfway, and noticed first the fluid she was floating in. Surprisingly, she could see through it, but quickly put this aside as she looked about, hoping to figure out what was going on in this dream.  
  
She realized the fluid she was floating in was rather warm, making things rather comfortable. The warmth made Jean relax, and she settled for floating in the fluid for a moment or two, sighing dreamily, even though it was /in/ a dream, one where her surroundings were an ethereal pink area.  
  
But for some reason, Jean began feeling quite uncomfortable after the moment or two ended. She shifted, trying to get comfy again, but it was no use. Frowning, Jean scowled down at her feet---but her eyes caught something new.  
  
With a start, Jean realized she wasn't wearing any clothes, not even some underwear. Instantly, she curled herself into a ball, wrapping her person in her arms for some protection. She felt more than merely "exposed."  
  
'God, if the Professor picks this up, I'll never live it down,' Jean thought, hoping the dream wasn't being telepathically broadcast to anyone, and praying to God that the Professor wasn't getting so much as a hint of this. 'Why the heck am I floating nude in warm fluid? This makes less sense than the dream about me being a bank clerk in the Oval Office.'  
  
Jean wrapped her arms around herself tighter, and felt a ropey object brush against her. She flailed away from it, and then stopped, realizing what it was as she studied it. A long, cable-like fleshy member came down to her from the infinite height of the dream's "area," and Jean was stunned to see the flesh-cable was actually connected to her body---right at the bellybutton. It didn't even hurt her; instead, it felt natural, and very welcome.  
  
'Okay, things are officially getting too weird for words. I'm naked, floating in warm fluid, don't mind not breathing, and now there's an /umbilical cord/ plugged into me?' Jean shuddered. She wanted to wake up, right now, and then go back to sleep and forget she had ever dreamt this.  
  
Abruptly, taking Jean completely by surprise, a voice began speaking. Jean started again, looking about for the voice's origin. It seemed hauntingly familiar, making the redheaded mutant wonder who it was.  
  
"Oh, the baby's kicking! Come and feel, before she stops!"  
  
Jean froze, shocked at what she heard. 'I'm a /baby/? What's going on here?' She forced herself to think logically, putting the puzzle's pieces together. 'Okay, I'm floating in what has to be amniotic fluid, I'm attached to an umbilical cord like all babies are, and I'm in the womb of someone who /has/ to be my mother. The only question is what caused this weirdo dream. And I already have the answer: The slice of chocolate cake I just /had/ to have before going to bed. Me and my big stomach.'  
  
Jean craned her neck, looking from one side to another in hopes of finding an exit, but all she saw were two dark figures floating nearby. They seemed eerily familiar, but she couldn't place who they were. Of course, with this being a dream and all, they were probably just figments of her imagination.  
  
Then, again without warning, something happened: The umbilical cord disconnected from her and withdrew upwards, leaving Jean to blink in wonderment. She felt everything begin to crowd around her, as if she were in a room where the pressure was being increased. With a start, she realized she was slowly floating downward, and she looked below to see a glowing white opening.  
  
'What, I'm being /born/ now?' she asked herself as her speed picked up, and she plummeted at the white slit, which was growing bigger as she approached.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
With a scream Jean sat upright in bed, panting heavily. She rubbed her forehead, and ran her hand through her damp hair. Her body, much to her disgust, was coated with sweat and burning hot from the episode, and Jean grumbled darkly as she got out of bed and went to the bathroom, having little choice but to use her towel to dry herself.  
  
Jean did that, and looked in the mirror, staring intensely at her reflection. She pondered her dream, trying to discern some practical meaning. Of course, not all dreams have practical meanings, so she considered the possibility that her dream could mean nothing.  
  
'Still, not everyone dreams about being in their mother's womb and being born, now do they?' Jean asked herself, feeling a headache begin to develop from merely recalling the gist of the dream itself. She groaned, padding over to her nightstand and opening a drawer, taking a couple of Tylenol. She was about to close the drawer when she noticed that a picture of her and Scott, sitting atop the nightstand, was now ruined.  
  
The glass was cracked and, surprisingly, turned a foggy gray in several places, as if it had been momentarily scorched or something, perhaps brushed against a rough surface. Jean stared in astonishment at it, wondering what to make of it. Had someone come into her room and done this, maybe while she was sleeping? She hoped not, as it would be rather embarrassing for someone to see her in a bizarre dream's throes.  
  
Sighing, she closed the drawer, turned off the nightstand's lamp she had turned on when she awoke, and went to sleep, deciding it would be best if she did something about the picture in the morning.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Though it was late at night, there was an occupant of the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House who was not sleeping.  
  
Kurt Wagner was crouched on the couch's center, keeping his balance perfectly as he brooded darkly. He was mentally analyzing events, figuring out every small detail he could about them before deciding what to do. These events ranged from the earlier lunch with Pietro to the conversations he had with Kitty and even the tidbits of data on Drake.  
  
Kurt knew how to use things to his advantage, though he wasn't good enough to do it as often as his mother, or as well. Still, he was learning, and from the best, no less. Being the son of a woman like Mystique had its benefits.  
  
As he listened to the pouring rain that night, Kurt kept thinking. He knew Kitty loved him too much to go for Alvers, and he knew that Alvers wasn't Kitty's type. That, and the X-Man Jean Grey was starting to have an eye for Alvers. Kurt wondered if Grey cared about the Kitty/Alvers relationship, or if the redhead was waiting for something. It was obvious, however, that Grey was at least vaguely interested in Avalanche.  
  
'But Kitty had better not be,' Kurt thought darkly. 'I can handle Grey being in love with that foot-fixated hero, but if Kitty goes for him...' Kurt let the thought trail off, his dark mood filling in whatever unsaid threat was there. He loved Kitty, just as she loved him, and he couldn't stand the thought of her being with some naïve fool, especially if that fool was an X-Man.  
  
Kurt's tail weaved behind him like a snake, and he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, though he was not focusing on anything in particular. In the dark of the night, one would mistake him for an actual demon. Such things did not bother Kurt; in fact, he tended to use someone's fear to his advantage. And with the rain pouring down outside, the rolling thunder and the occasional flash of lightning, he provided a very scary image indeed.  
  
With a cloud that smelled of sulfur and brimstone, Kurt returned to his room.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Evan Daniels gulped down another glass of milk, mentally cursing his particular mutation---at least, he was for the moment. He had been praying lately that his mutation would not cause him to run out of calcium, as his bone projections were pretty much extensions of his regular skeleton.  
  
A little theory had been running around his head that his regular skeleton was linked to his powers in such a way as to force him to consume calcium- rich materials often to keep his supply of calcium up, so that his powers would not run out. It was a rather silly theory, one borne of almost totally baseless fear, but it still made Evan worry.  
  
"And what do we have here, lads and lasses?" a woman's voice asked, causing Evan to start and spew the milk in his mouth out, showering the kitchen table with a fine mist. Looking over to the doorway, he saw Dr. Moira MacTaggert standing there, eyeing him curiously. He was thankful she wore a bathrobe over her nightgown, because having errant thoughts of women her age kind of sickened him. Still, he couldn't shut out a couple of such thoughts as they flitted through his mind before he banished them.  
  
"What are you doing down here this late?" Evan asked.  
  
"/A/ am getting some cold sprint water to take with me sleeping pills, because A cannae get some much-needed rest in a place like this mansion, since A've not been in it much."  
  
Evan nodded, understanding what she was talking about all too well. He had had to get used to sleeping in the mansion when he had moved in a while back.  
  
"And what are ye doing down here, lad?" Moira asked. "Thirsty?"  
  
"More like concerned over my health," he replied, finishing off the last of his glass of milk and putting the jug back into the fridge. "Mind if I ask you a question?"  
  
"A see no reason why not."  
  
"What's it like where you come from?"  
  
Moira smiled, mostly to herself. "Oh, it's not /too/ bad, once ye get used to the low temperatures and the fairly ruddy weather. If'n ye meant Scotland and not Muir Island, it's better there."  
  
Evan nodded.  
  
"Mind if A ask /ye/ a question?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Why didna A met ye earlier, when Charles and ye X-Men were down in the Danger Room?"  
  
Evan shifted uneasily. "Honestly? I was feeling too wasted from the training. I didn't mean any offense, but I just wanted to hit the sack /so/ bad."  
  
Moira smiled wryly. "Aye, A know what ye mean. A've done it meself a few times."  
  
Evan shifted again. "Uh, do you think we could keep the whole vanishing act thing between us, because Auntie O would grill me for skipping on you like that."  
  
Moira chuckled. "Of course, lad. Yuir secret's safe with me."  
  
"Thanks a load," he said, heading back upstairs.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Rogue, come on or we'll be late!" Scott called from the driver's seat. He was parked in front of the Institute, everyone ready and waiting on the Goth.  
  
"I'm coming!" she barked as she rushed out the front door and to the car, hopping into the back seat with Todd, Fred and Evan. Jean was forced to sit on Lance's lap in the front seat, and was, for the millionth time, nursing her head. Once Rogue was buckled up, Scott switched gears and took off for the high school.  
  
"What wrong with you /this/ time?" Rogue asked Jean from behind, leaning forward.  
  
"I ate too much chocolate cake," Jean replied. "As a consequence, I had to endure one of the most ridiculous dreams ever."  
  
"Too much cake?" Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. "You only had one slice."  
  
"I know, but it was a /lot/ of chocolate for one slice," Jean said. "It isn't called Death By Chocolate for nothing." (AN: That is a real, and real good, cake!)  
  
"I hear ya, yo," Todd said, leaning forward from the backseat as well. "I once ate a black mushroom, and it made me think I was Magic Johnson."  
  
With the exceptions of Scott and Jean, the others looked at him weirdly.  
  
"So, you had a chocolate-induced bad dream, huh?" Lance asked. "What happened?"  
  
Jean grimaced. "You /don't/ want to know."  
  
"Why?" Rogue asked. "I had a really freaky nightmare the night we battled Juggernaut, and it was---" She broke off, realizing she had said too much. If she spilled the beans on the Professor, she'd be doing a lousy job of paying him back for all he'd done for her.  
  
"It was what, Rogue?" Scott asked, greatly interested in the conversation now that the Professor's evil brother had been mentioned.  
  
"I can't, guys," Rogue said. "It could cause problems for everyone, especially the Professor. I should have just kept my mouth shut."  
  
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Jean proposed.  
  
"I told you, it could ruin everything!" Rogue said. "You don't want us all to get in trouble, do you?"  
  
"Is it even important to us, Rogue?" Fred asked. "If it comes from Juggernaut, it can't be very helpful."  
  
Rogue blinked. She hadn't thought of that.  
  
"Well, Rogue, what's it gonna be?" Scott asked. "Jean hasn't said a word about her dream to me, and she's offering to tell you about it if you tell us what was in yours."  
  
Rogue made a frustrated sound. "If I tell you at lunch, will you leave me alone about it?"  
  
"I can agree to that," Jean said, and rubbed her temples carefully, trying to soothe the pain away.  
  
"Sure, just as long as you tell us," Scott said. "Here we are, gang."  
  
He pulled into the student parking lot and found his spot, and the mutants exited the vehicle and entered the school.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
"I still don't think you should act so pushy, Kurt," Kitty Pryde said to her fellow mutant as they walked to her locker. "Just because I'm engaging in a bet with Lance Alvers does /not/ mean I am in love with him."  
  
"Perhaps, Kitty, but I keep getting angry at the way you look at him sometimes," Kurt replied.  
  
"What's /that/ supposed to mean?" Kitty asked.  
  
"It means that you might actually care about the enemy. He may be like us in that we all have powers, but he does not share our beliefs. He will not bring anything good if you keep going out with him."  
  
Kitty laughed. "I'm not going out with him, Kurt; he and I are engaging in a bet, like I already told you. It doesn't mean we like each other. Remember, he tried to stop me from giving Amy and Riley what they had coming to them."  
  
"True, but they say love conquers all, and I don't like the idea of having you go over to the X-Men."  
  
Kitty smiled, shaking her head. "Kurt, you won't lose me. Lance will."  
  
Before he could say anything, Kitty had given him a light peck on the cheek and walked off, most likely to meet Alvers and break the "bad news" to him.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Lance finished grabbing the necessary items from his locker and closed it, making sure the lock worked properly; sometimes it didn't click right, and people could steal your stuff.  
  
"Hey, Lance!" Kitty's voice called from down the hall.  
  
Lance looked to see her running towards him, a neutral expression on her face. His brow furrowed as he wondered what she wanted this time. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to do anything to jeopardize his hard-earned grades.  
  
"Kitty Cat, what's up?" he asked as she stopped by his side.  
  
"Bad news, I'm afraid," was her answer.  
  
Lance frowned. "What now?"  
  
"Oh, it's just that Kurt is getting really jealous of us and he wants me to stop seeing you."  
  
Lance raised an eyebrow. "You going to?"  
  
Kitty said nothing, but the smile on her face gave him all the answer he needed. Lance scowled.  
  
"Can I at least get another reason besides Kurt's jealousy?" he asked.  
  
Kitty put a finger to her chin. "Well, in all honestly, you're even plainer than I am, mostly because you don't have my enticing charms. I guess you could say that's another reason, so there you go. But don't worry, Lance: I'm /sure/ some other girl will come to you."  
  
"I still don't see why you choose the elf over me," Lance said.  
  
"Kurt has a certain beauty and grace to him that you completely lack," Kitty said. "That, and I don't know of very many girls who get the pleasure of being with a fuzzy blue elf."  
  
She turned around and left, leaving Lance to himself. He wondered why he was even caring about this, since it was just a bet, but his heart felt like it had just been crushed.  
  
'But it was just a bet,' he thought. 'We weren't supposed to fall for each other. Just because my heart's aching, it means I secretly like her? That's bull! Kitty's a bloodthirsty psycho, despite her beauty.' Lance took a deep breath, but the ache still remained. 'Let's /hope/ I don't have a hidden crush on her; everyone will kill me if I do.'  
  
The bell rang, signaling that there were five minutes to get to Homeroom. Lance put his thoughts and feelings aside as he moved off.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
"It's just that we haven't been seeing much of each other lately," Duncan Mathews was saying as he and Jean Grey walked toward the X-Men's table.  
  
Jean smiled apologetically. "Well, I've been rather busy with some of the other kids at the Institute. That, and these headaches of mine are becoming a real nuisance."  
  
Duncan grinned. "Yeah, I'll say. Don't you use pills or something to deal with the pain?"  
  
"I try, but the headaches keep coming back. I'm probably just prone to them." Jean almost added, "Mostly because I'm telepathic." Thankfully, she did not.  
  
"Well, I'll see you later, Jean," Duncan said as he left. Jean sat down with the others, glad for their company. Duncan wasn't /too/ bad, but he became too much if you met him too often. Turning to Rogue, Jean asked, "So, what's this I hear about a Juggernaut-owned dream?"  
  
Rogue, who had placed her face in her arms to avoid looking at the others, sat up and faced Jean. "I told you it could get us all in major trouble, but if it'll shut you guys up, I suppose I can talk about it---long as y'all don't go running your mouths about it."  
  
The others swiftly agreed not to, although Rogue hardly believed them.  
  
"Wait, Rogue," Jean said. "Maybe I should go first, unless yours is really freaky or shocking or something."  
  
"It is," Rogue confirmed.  
  
"Then allow me, because mine is just plain weird." Jean cleared her throat before telling of her dream. "I don't know about you guys, but I think I have had the /weirdest/ dream ever."  
  
"What was it?" Scott asked.  
  
"I dreamt I was like I am now---you know, this age and everything---and that I was, believe it or not, in my mother's womb."  
  
Blank stares met her eyes all around the table, but Jean went on.  
  
"To top it all off, I even got to the points where I heard my mother urging others to come and feel me kicking when I was still trying to grasp my surroundings, /and/ the second point is when I got born again."  
  
"Jean, I think you might need therapy," Scott said.  
  
"Ha ha," she said dryly. "I got therapy from my mother. I called her up, told her about the dream, and she said it was nothing more than a homesickness-induced, chocolate cake nightmare."  
  
After a tense silence, Lance said, "Jean, despite the fact that my heart is killing me, I think I can endure some more pain for juicy stories like that- --if it'll help me be your boyfriend and all."  
  
"She will /not/ be your girlfriend, Lance," Scott said stiffly, glowering at the rock-tumbler.  
  
"Scott, stop it," Jean said. "If I want to be Lance's girl, I can. But why is your heart aching?"  
  
"I don't know why it is, but Kitty dumped me for Nightcrawler before Homeroom. I felt like my heart had been stomped on."  
  
Jean's face took on a sad expression, one her voice also had. "Oh Lance, I'm sorry."  
  
He blinked. "What, for me and Kitty?"  
  
"No, because you felt bad afterwards. Kitty has Kurt to comfort her."  
  
Lance smiled at her. "Thanks, Jean."  
  
The redhead smiled back.  
  
"Okay, now your dream, Rogue," Evan spoke up.  
  
Rogue paused, took a deep breath, and then began. "I had this dream that I was in a church, watching this couple get married. Everyone was /really/ happy, and I began to feel great too. Then, without warning, Juggernaut rises out of the crowd and attacks the couple. That's when the dream ends."  
  
After a moment, Scott asked, "So how is this significant to us?"  
  
"Because the groom was Professor Xavier," Rogue said. "I don't have any idea who his wife is."  
  
This time, the words sank in. For a long moment, no one said anything, and only a few times did they glance at each other. Scott felt more confused than anything, wondering whether or not the Professor trusted him. Jean felt the same, amazingly, but that was expected when one considered she and Scott were the most experienced with the Professor than the others. Evan was trying to figure out how he should feel, not knowing how this information actually affected him. Fred felt afraid that this would lead to something big. Todd felt like getting to a new subject, particularly pro wrestling, so that he would be able to claim ignorance if this came back to bite him. Lance could only stare.  
  
Scott cleared his throat. "You're telling us that Professor Xavier is secretly married?"  
  
Rogue nodded.  
  
"To whom?" Jean asked.  
  
Rogue's face bunched up in annoyance. "I told you I don't know!"  
  
Lance interrupted before things could get ugly. "Guys, look, let's just keep this to ourselves. If we bother the Professor with this, it might make things really rough. And all of us knows what a training session with Wolverine is like, right?"  
  
One by one, each mutant shuddered.  
  
"All right, then, it's agreed," Scott said. "We say nothing unless we really have to. Is everyone clear on this?"  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"Good," Scott said. "Now, let's get back to our regular lives."  
  
The day moved on.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
That night, the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House was very quiet, with hardly anyone making much noise. Mystique had demanded quiet, and would receive it even if she had to beat the rule into her charges. Bobby had gone upstairs to his room, giving the curt statement of getting some shuteye. Kitty and Kurt were snuggling happily on the living room couch, and Mystique was in her own room, brooding and plotting as always.  
  
Pietro, sensing he wasn't needed, decided to go and get some fresh air on the front steps. He stepped outside, taking in a deep breath and liking it. Despite the incessant buzzing of insects, he was quite at peace. Bayville wasn't his favorite place, but it wasn't /too/ bad.  
  
Without warning, Pietro jerked forward, his waist controlled by a force he couldn't identify. He was pulled to the ground in a heartbeat, and, try though he did, could not stand up under his own power. Whatever was holding him down had too much strength for him.  
  
"I expected better," drawled an all too familiar voice.  
  
Pietro felt a brief shiver go down his spine. He swallowed quickly, pushing aside his fears.  
  
"Magneto, boss, I had no idea you were coming," he said to the mutant overlord.  
  
"Of course you didn't," Magneto replied as he floated to the ground from somewhere above. He released Pietro's belt buckle, and the speedster got up and brushed himself off. "Now, where is Mystique? I have business with her."  
  
"Mystique's in her room, doing her own stuff," Pietro promptly answered. "Is there anything you need, sir?"  
  
"To be left to my work," was the short answer. Magneto reached out, opening the front door while still five strides from it. He entered the boarding house, carrying himself with the air of one who was both all- powerful and all-important. Kurt and Kitty were stunned by the suddenness of his appearance, but quickly got over this and stood at attention. "Mystique!" Magneto called loudly.  
  
From upstairs came the angry footsteps of the field commander of the Brotherhood of Mutants. The blue shape-shifter stormed down the stairs, halting a few paces from Magneto. Her eyes were narrowed and she spoke with venom in her voice.  
  
"I am /busy/, Magneto!" she hissed. "Your private schemes have cost me much, and I need to plan on how we are to get it back."  
  
Magneto was unfazed by her attitude. "I would talk with you, Mystique. /Now/."  
  
Catching the undertone of his words, Mystique dropped the manner and led her employer upstairs. Pietro entered just as her door slammed shut.  
  
"So, what'd they say?" he asked Kitty.  
  
"Well, Mystique said she was busy, and Magneto said he would talk with her, so they just went to her room," was the answer.  
  
Pietro shifted his gaze to the stairs, wondering what they were talking about. It was no lie: Knowledge was power; lack of knowledge was weakness. Pietro liked knowing as much as he could, as it helped him against anything he needed to overcome. Especially the X-Men.  
  
Ignoring the others, he zipped upstairs, coming to Mystique's shut door almost instantly thanks to his superhuman speed. Making sure he wasn't causing the slightest sounds, Pietro pressed his ear to the door. From the other side came muffled voices he could barely make out. Whatever the two were discussing, though, sounded important.  
  
"...only a handful of mutants...going nowhere...where's the help?" said Mystique's voice.  
  
Pietro moved toward the bottom of the door, listening through the gap between the floor and the door itself. He could hear the voices clearer from that position.  
  
"Rest assured," Magneto was saying, "that my plans will ensure victory. Xavier doesn't realize just how much power we have. Once we acquire a few more mutants, everything will be going our way."  
  
"Oh?" Mystique asked sarcastically. "And how will a few more make that much of a difference?"  
  
"Because their powers are phenomenal," Magneto answered. "My only concern is if Charles brings in a few particular mutants who may present a formidable challenge to the Brotherhood." He paused. "I believe there is someone at the door."  
  
Realizing he was pretty much discovered, Pietro made himself scarce, certain he could make things up later.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Magneto flung open the door with his powers, but found the hallway empty. He would have chuckled, but kept it back. He knew Pietro had been spying, and would deal with the youngster later. At the moment, he had another boy to see.  
  
Making his way to Bobby Drake's room, Magneto opened it, finding the youth lying on his bed, face up, simply staring at the ceiling. Magneto entered the room, coming to Bobby's side and smiling down at the boy in a friendly way.  
  
"I trust you are feeling well, Iceman?"  
  
"Fine," Bobby answered in a frosty tone.  
  
"Stand, and walk with me," the older man said.  
  
Bobby did so. As they steadily made their way down the hall, Magneto talked.  
  
"Tell me, Bobby, are you eager for things to finish?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Including your parents?"  
  
Bobby's mind abruptly went blank, and he stumbled. Magneto caught him, appearing worried.  
  
"Bobby, are you all right?"  
  
"I..." Bobby began, but his head was flooded with a terrible memory he didn't ever want to remember.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Bobby was only ten years old.  
  
He sat with his parents, William and Madeline, on a blanket his mother had laid out on the smooth green grass, eating his baloney sandwich and drinking his cranberry juice. The scene was so perfect that it might as well have been a cliché, but it /was/ real.  
  
Abruptly, Bobby cried out, throwing his juice aside. His parents looked at him, surprised and puzzled. Madeline was the first to react.  
  
"Bobby, honey, what happened?" she asked, concerned, as any mother would be.  
  
"It's too cold!" he said.  
  
Confused, Madeline reached over and grabbed the cup of juice, only to drop it immediately. She sucked on her fingers, trying to make the pain stop.  
  
"What, what is it?" William asked.  
  
"It's ice cold!" she replied. "I can't understand why!"  
  
He blinked, and glanced from her to his son, gasping when he saw the frost appearing on the grass around Bobby.  
  
"My God, Bobby, what have you done?" he breathed, fear in his voice.  
  
Bobby began to cry.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Are you ill, Bobby?" Magneto asked as the boy's memory died down.  
  
With a violent jerk of his head, Bobby Drake, Iceman, stood straight up and said no.  
  
"I must go now, my young friend, but I will return soon," Magneto promised. "And when I return, we will be one step closer to exacting your revenge."  
  
His work done at the Brotherhood house, he moved past Bobby, gracefully descending the stairs and striding out the door, holding himself regally. Magneto summoned his powers, raising himself into the air and taking flight. In the moonlight, with his gleaming crimson chest armor, helmet, and billowing purple cape, he seemed like some sort of Superman. As he made his way, Magneto allowed himself a smile at how perfectly things were going...both in general, and with Drake.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR: Things are getting good, aren't they?  
  
Next: Things reach a boiling point as Rogue speaks with Irene and as Professor Xavier speaks!  
  
READ N REVIEW! 


	11. Revelations

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait! 

TO Sandoz: Don't worry; Lance will get plenty of luck.  

TO The Scribe: I'll update.  What about you? 

***********************************************************************

Chapter 11: Revelations 

/ 

/  

/ 

/ 

Jean Grey yawned loudly when she woke up.  Sliding out of bed, she shivered against the cool of the room, much preferring the warmth of the mattress.  Still, the mutants had to go to school today, so she made her way to the bathroom.  

Once finished, she dressed and carefully combed her hair, making absolutely sure it was perfect.  Even though it hardly ever got messed up, she didn't want it to on this _very_ special day.  

Leaving her room, she made her way down the hall.  The others were groggily making their way to the breakfast table, eager for a good meal before the torture of school began anew.  Jean took a seat opposite Evan, and was about to dig into her single piece of sausage when she realized the Professor was smiling at her. 

"Good morning, Jean."  

"Good morning, Professor Xavier.  If you don't mind my asking, what's Evan doing down here before Scott and myself?  He's usually one of the last to the table." 

"Evan," Ororo answered without looking away from her own meal, "has received a detention for skateboarding on school property.  And he _will_ serve that detention."  

Jean blinked, surprised at Ororo's hard tone of voice.  True, Evan did need to cut down on his skateboarding, but getting grilled by his aunt was a little harsh when coupled with a detention.  Jean made no comment as she began eating.  

"Morning, all," Moira said cheerily as she took a seat next to Jean.  "Ah, breakfast!  The stuff of champions, eh, Charles?" 

Xavier groaned but said nothing.  Jean wondered what the woman meant, but decided she would be best served by being quiet.  After all, she was sure the two went way back, and the comment was probably some joke between them.  Adults did things like that all the time. 

"Good morning, everyone," Scott said as he plopped into the seat next to Evan.  "Wow, this looks good!" 

"Better be," Lance said as he sat down on Jean's right.  "I could have sworn the last meal here gave me a bellyache." 

"That's just 'cause you don't got no stomach for real food, yo," Todd said as he and Fred took seats of their own.  "The Toad can eat _anything_." 

Scott glanced around the table and noticed Rogue was still missing.  Of course, Wolverine wasn't there either, but he didn't worry about the man.  

"Rogue is heading towards the stairs right now, Scott," the Professor said, having noticed the X-Man's observation.  

"Glad to hear it," Scott said, though he obviously didn't mean it as he ate his toast.  

"Hey," Rogue said as she sat down between Lance and Todd.  "This smells good." 

"As we all agree," Jean smiled.  "The food here is always worth eating." 

"Rogue, what took you so long to get down here?" Scott asked.  "I don't mean to pry, but you were upstairs an extra five minutes." 

"I was checking movie times," she answered.  "I keep praying we'll get to see a new movie, and I think I found one that might fit everybody." 

"If it's the one with the guy who gets the powers of God, then I'm not so sure," Scott said. 

Jean grinned.  "Jealous?" 

"Jealous?" Scott laughed.  "Of what?" 

"The fact that even a movie character has more control over the world than you do." 

Scott laughed even harder, almost knocking over his glass of orange juice.  

"It wasn't _that_ funny," Lance said, glaring at Scott.  

"Fine, I'll calm down," the field leader of the X-Men said.  He steadily regained his composure as the others continued eating.  

"I hope no one else makes any innocuous jokes," Xavier said, glancing at Moira, who smirked.  

_But that wasn't really innocuous_, Jean thought.  She wondered what the Professor meant, especially when he looked at the Scottish woman.  

Her musings were interrupted, though, by the arrival of Logan.  The feral X-Man claimed a chair and began devouring his sausages, briefly causing the others to eye him.  

"Sorry," he muttered, and began eating in a more civilized fashion.  

"So, Rogue," Jean said, changing the subject.  "What movie were you talking about?" 

"Oh, yeah!" Rogue said, getting back to what she was saying.  "It's that one about the surfer girls." 

"A chick flick?" Lance asked, sounding revolted.  "Those things should be banned!" 

"It isn't a chick flick, Lance," Rogue said.  "It's got plenty of surfing action in it—plus, there are hot girls."  

This tidbit caused Lance, Todd, and Fred to pay more attention to the Goth.  

"_Real_ hot girls, or _fake_ hot girls?" Todd asked sagely. 

"Real, duh." 

Xavier cleared his throat loudly.  "I think you had all best hurry on to school now." 

Finishing up their meals, the young mutants grabbed their bags and made for their rides.  But when Scott got into his car, Rogue took the passenger seat.  Puzzled, he glanced over at Lance's jeep and saw Jean riding shotgun.  A pang of jealousy rang through him, and it took a moment for him to remember where he was.  

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Scott started the car and began driving to school with Rogue and Todd, the latter of which had hopped into the backseat just before Scott took off.  

"So, Rogue," Scott said tersely, trying to get his mind off Jean being with Lance, "you actually think we'll get to see a movie?" 

"Yeah, actually," she said.  "I hope even the Professor, Ororo and Logan can come, but they'll probably say they're busy or something." 

"What about Dr. MacTaggert?" 

"I suppose it's okay if she joins us," Rogue shrugged.  "She's pretty nice."  

After a brief silence, Scott asked, "Rogue, can I ask you a question about Lance?" 

She eyed him warily.  "I guess."  

"Does he have anything for Jean?" 

Rogue didn't answer immediately.  After a few moments, she opened her mouth to give an answer when Todd leaned forward from the backseat.  

"Need some music, man!" he said, switching on the radio and cranking it up.  

Deprived of an answer, Scott decided to simply do this the old-fashioned way.  He was sure that, deep down, Jean would never settle with a second-stringer like Lance Alvers. 

***********************************************************************

In Lance's jeep, Jean was actually enjoying herself.  The change was rather refreshing after being used to Scott's precious little sports car for so long.  It seemed like Lance didn't entirely care whether or not his jeep was roughed up a little, as long as it wasn't destroyed.  

"How'd you get this thing, Lance?" she asked. 

"Well, I got it dirt cheap from a junkyard because the engine wasn't any good," he replied.  "Had to keep stealing with Griff and Pete to earn enough money to get the thing to work at all.  Now that the Professor's helping, this baby's back to a nice level."  

"That's great news." 

"Tell me about it."  He paused for a moment.  "Jean, are you sure about riding with me?  Scott might want my head on a platter." 

Jean waved a hand dismissively.  "Scott won't do anything, trust me.  If I like you, then there's nothing he can do to change my mind."  

Lance smiled broadly at that.  

***********************************************************************

When they arrived at Bayville High, each went his or her own way.  Jean and Scott moved to the cafeteria together, with Jean rubbing her temples ever so slightly.  Lance, Todd, and Fred also went there, but only to talk and eat the snacks Fred brought along. 

Rogue, though, headed to her locker and retrieved her Algebra book, sighing resignedly.  She seriously disliked the subject, and would rather not take it, but the Professor and the instructors would not let any of the students intentionally leave their subjects. 

She slammed her locker shut, which caused the person a couple of locker down to turn, catching her eye.  Rogue froze, more than a little surprised that she had been so close to him all this time. 

"Well, the fräulein finally realizes the obvious," Kurt Wagner sneered.  "I thought you people were supposed to be smart, _ja_?" 

Rogue's eyes narrowed.  "You know, I just might have to get a new locker if you're this close to me." 

Kurt couldn't help but laugh at that.  "You think?  My mother controls this school, Rogue.  Every single aspect of this building is under her stiletto heel.  Believe me when I say that she won't let you move."  

"Professor Xavier can be _very_ influential, in case you didn't know," Rogue countered. 

"Oh, really?" Kurt asked, sarcasm dripping in his voice.  He leaned in close to Rogue and cocked an eyebrow.  "Your 'Professor' couldn't influence my mother if his ass depended on it!"  

Rogue didn't like how he hissed the last part at her.  With a menacing calm, not taking her eyes off the other mutant, she removed one glove.  Kurt glanced down at it but did not move away.  

"If you say one more thing about the Professor, I'll get a very personal lesson in learning German, if you know what I mean," the Gothic mutant warned darkly. 

Kurt's smirk only got bigger.  "You have any idea what Kitty and my mother would do to you?" 

Rogue felt a surge of anger that seemed rooted in the deeper levels of her mind.  She didn't really want to, but before she realized it, her hand had clapped itself onto Kurt's face and she was tapping him.  

Images flew through her mind: Kurt's powers first activating; Mystique giving Kurt a ridiculously large bratwurst; Kurt's first fight with humans outside his home in Germany— 

Rogue couldn't take anymore.  She tapped Nightcrawler's mutant ability and teleported, not caring about the consequences.  

***********************************************************************

"Are you sure you're okay?" Scott asked for perhaps the millionth time.  

Jean sighed, becoming irritated.  "Scott, I told you already that my weird dream must have let out some of the pressure in my head.  I'm fine, at least for right now." 

Scott studied her for another moment before he went back to eating his Milky Way.  After another couple of minutes, Jean stood up, moving towards the table where Lance, Todd, and Fred were seated.  

"Jean?" Scott asked, confused. 

"I'm going to sit with Lance," she answered, as if that explained everything. 

Scott blinked behind his glasses.  "Why?" 

Jean rolled her eyes.  "Scott, has it _ever_ occurred to you that I might want to be with somebody else?" 

"No."  

"Well, right now I feel that Lance has been abused by people that really should know better.  He's had a hard enough life as it is, and he doesn't need it to become any harder just because you want to keep me all to yourself.  If I want to go for Lance, then I'll go for Lance." 

And without another word, Jean proceeded to Lance's table.  Scott stared at her retreating form, dumbstruck.  

_What's Lance got that I don't?_ he asked himself.  

************************************************************************

"Hey," Jean said, sitting next to Lance.  She didn't show just how grateful she was that the seat had been empty, that Todd and Fred were sitting across from the rock-tumbler.  

"Oh, uh, hey, Jean," Lance said.  "Why aren't you sitting with Scott?" 

"That's a little secret," Jean grinned.  

Lance cocked an eyebrow.  "Oh, I get it," he said with a sly look.  "Mr. Tight-Ass getting too much for you?" 

Though her first thought was to tell Lance not to call Scott that, she didn't.  "I guess that's _part_ of the reason." 

Lance eyed her curiously, but didn't ask any more questions.  He wondered, of course, what she was really doing over here.  Did she secretly like him?  A part of Lance hoped so.  It was Jean Grey, the attractive young mutant girl that could easily put down many other hot girls, be they mutant or no.  If Lance managed to nail Jean, he'd be set for life in the happiness department. 

"Lance?" Todd asked.  

"Oh, sorry," Lance apologized.  "Anyway, like I was saying, Rogue keeps acting dodgy around Scott." 

Jean blinked, realizing what the three boys were discussing.  "You guys are talking about Rogue?" 

"In a good way!" Fred assured quickly.  "Lance was just telling us how he thinks she's got the hots for Mr. Tight-Ass!" 

Jean shot Fred a blazing glare, and he shrunk down as much as he could.  

"Uh, sorry, Jean," Lance apologized.  "But it _is_ true: Scott is the biggest tight-ass on the team." 

Jean hesitated before responding.  Even though she normally wouldn't stand for this sort of thing, she wasn't with Scott, and she knew for a fact that the field leader of the X-Men could be rather intolerable at times.  

_I guess Lance is right after all,_ she thought.  _Scott really_ can _be a tight-ass_.   

Lance had meanwhile gone onward with his ideas, and Jean settled for simply admiring him.  

**********************************************************************

BAMF! 

Rogue and Kurt appeared out of thin air, with the X-Man still clutching the German's wrist.  She released him, and they both promptly collapsed onto the grass.  Rogue couldn't stop panting, exhausted both from teleporting and from her drain.  It could be as taxing on her as her victim.  

Steadily regaining her breath, she looked around and found she had arrived at the wooded outskirts of the school.  Such a place was ideal for hiding one's mutant secrets, and Rogue decided to make the best of things.  

_Oh my God, the Professor!_ she thought, suddenly realizing what a school of impressionable students would think if they saw her and Kurt vanishing in a puff of smoke.  Calming herself as best she could, Rogue mentally reached out, calling for her mentor.  

_I'm here, Rogue_, he responded.  _What's wrong?_

_Professor, you really need to scan the school and see if anyone spotted me teleporting with Nightcrawler_.  

_Why?_ he asked. 

_Because I accidentally tapped him_, she admitted. 

She could almost see him sigh as he replied, _Very well.  I want you to get back to school when you can.  If you have to inform Principal Darkholme about this, then do so; though he may be our enemy, Kurt Wagner does not deserve to rot in the woods_.  

_I understand_, she nodded.  

"Rogue?" someone asked, snapping her to attention.  

The Goth jumped as she opened her eyes to find her old caretaker, Irene Adler, standing there.  The woman was dressed the same as always, with her yellow shirt, her slacks, her glasses and her white cane.  

"Irene?" Rogue asked, confused by the woman's appearance.  "What are you doing out here?" 

Irene smiled.  "That's a long story, Rogue.  I could easily ask you the same thing." 

Rogue hesitated a moment before responding.  "I got into an argument with another kid." 

Irene did not say anything immediately.  She studied the girl, her unseeing eyes sweeping over the younger mutant.  

"Walk with me, Rogue." 

Rogue blinked, her mouth hanging open slightly.  She had not been expecting her former caretaker to make such an unusual request.  

"What about the kid?  He's out cold right here with us." 

Irene waved a hand dismissively.  "He'll be fine.  Just come with me." 

"Are you sure?" Rogue asked.  What was her guardian doing here?  Nothing seemed to make sense lately. 

Irene nodded.  "Trust me, Rogue." 

Standing up, the Gothic mutant walked alongside the older woman.  Neither spoke for several minutes, Rogue wondering what was really going on.  

"So, Rogue, how are things here in Bayville?" 

Rogue fumbled for a good answer.  "Not too bad.  I could have done better, but fate has a way with the world, you know?" 

Irene chuckled.  "Oh, I know all about fate, Rogue.  Her and I are old friends." 

Rogue stared at Irene for a moment, puzzled by the statement, and then shrugged it off.  She probably meant old age or something.  

"Are there any gangs in this school?" 

"Not really, but a little, yeah," Rogue answered.  "There's the Brotherhood—at least, that's what everyone calls them, if you're aware that they live at the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House.  There's also the place I go to, the Xavier Institute.  Of course, we also have the usual gangs of cheerleaders and jocks and so on." 

Irene smiled.  "Tell me more about those first two.  They sound rather interesting." 

Rogue said, "Well, the Institute is a good place.  It's got a small staff there, and Professor Xavier is really good to us.  Me and the others there are pretty good friends.  As for the Brotherhood—they tend to be jerks and losers.  They also bully everyone.  If it wasn't for their bad attitudes, they could probably make something of themselves." 

Irene looked over to Rogue.  "I know this may sound ridiculous Rogue, but why don't you try and help fix this Brotherhood?" 

Rogue actually stopped walking, staring at Irene.  For several moments, she could not speak.  Her throat had gone dry, and she had to swallow several times before saying a word.  

"Help them?  Irene, you don't know what you're saying.  These guys are _real_ nasty pieces of work."  

"I'm sure they are, Rogue, but if I remember correctly, which I do, I raised you to be better than this," Irene replied in that patient, totally placid tone that Rogue found completely infuriating.  

"But, I can't, Irene!  The Brotherhood does nothing but cause trouble!  They'd only make my life a living hell!" 

Irene sighed.  "Rogue, dear, I know you won't like it at first, but if you try to get to know these people, you may rub off on them."  

Rogue snorted loudly.  "Rub off on the _Brotherhood?_  Irene, not to insult you, but you're kidding yourself."  

Irene shook her head, still maintaining her composure.  "No, Rogue, I simply am aware of a common link."  

Rogue blinked.  "A what?" 

"You won't believe what I am about to tell you, but you and your friend over there have more in common than you think." 

"Oh, really?" Rogue asked, trying to keep her cool.  She hoped Irene wasn't against mutants.  

"Indeed," Irene confirmed.  "You and Nightcrawler are very close." 

Rogue was totally unprepared for this.  Her jaw was hanging _way_ down, and she might have been drooling for a full minute.  Her legs began to buckle, which brought her back to reality, and she forced herself to keep standing.  

"What are you talking about, Irene?" she half-demanded.  

"You will have to ask your old friend Mystique, Rogue," was the woman's answer.  "She's the only one who can tell you."  

************************************************************************

The rest of the school day seemed to fly along, and before the X-Men knew it, they were home again.  

As they mutants approached the stairs to go to their rooms, Logan glanced at them, noticing one person was missing from the group.  

"Hey!" he said loudly, getting everyone's attention.  "Where's Rogue?" 

The others seemed somewhat surprised.  Hadn't they realized their friend wasn't with them on the way home?  After they looked around and also realized Rogue wasn't among them, Scott answered Logan's question.  

"We don't know.  She rode to school with Todd and I, but she didn't on the way back here.  I assumed she was in Lance's jeep."  

"Well, she wasn't," Lance said.  "Should we go and look for her?" 

"Logan?" Professor Xavier asked, entering the room.  "What is going on?" 

"Rogue's missing, Professor man," Todd said.  "She didn't come home, yo." 

Xavier looked rather stunned by this, and turned to Logan.  

"I'll look for her, don't worry," the feral X-Man promised, and he moved to leave.  

"Logan, wait," Xavier said.  "I believe we may have an easier time than simply using your skills."  

"Like what?" Fred asked. 

"When I last spoke with Rogue, it was this afternoon," Xavier told the others.  "She and Nightcrawler had teleported inside the school, and I had to examine the thoughts of multiple students before concluding that the two had not been seen.  When Rogue made contact, I sensed she was still at the school, but not inside of it.  She might have been on the grounds."  

"So we comb the area around the school?" Scott asked.  

"Logan will track her scent from the school grounds, while I use Cerebro.  The rest of you will search in other places where she could have gone.  Jean, you should stay here with me." 

Jean blinked, confused at the request.  "Why, Professor?" 

"While I am using Cerebro, I will be concentrating on areas other than the Institute.  If Rogue returns here, someone will need to alert me." 

Jean nodded just as Lance raised a hand. 

"Yes, Lance?" Xavier asked. 

"How do we know that Rogue didn't just go ahead to the movies or something?"  

The others looked surprised, and exchanged glances, amazed they had not thought of this before assuming Rogue was missing.  

"I think the kid's got a real good point, Chuck," Logan said.  "Anyone got that paper Rogue was probably fussing over before breakfast?" 

Todd hurried upstairs and then back, handing the paper to Xavier.  

"It seems as though the chances of Rogue being at the movie theater have just gone up," the Professor said.  

"What do you mean?" Jean asked. 

"Rogue has circled the time for the movie she wanted us to see, from the looks of it, and the film is to start in—"  He checked his watch.  "—Twenty minutes.  Nothing of a long wait.  She might indeed be there." 

"Then we got a new plan of action," Logan said.  "_I'll_ track Rogue myself while the kids here go to the movie." 

The younger mutants began to protest, but Logan put his foot down.  

"Look, I know you want to help, but Rogue said she wanted everyone to get some time off from our line of work.  I can handle some more action, but you kids need a break.  Just go to the movie and relax.  If there's any trouble, I'll handle it." 

"Logan is correct," Xavier concurred.  "Rogue might not be in the best of moods, and aggravating her would be unwise.  She might wish to be left alone." 

Reluctantly, the others agreed to leave for the movies.  Jean, to everyone's surprise, though, stayed behind.  

"I keep getting this really weird feeling that I have to stay here, you know?" she tried to explain.  "You guys just go ahead without me." 

"Nah," Lance said.  "If you're staying, so am I." 

Jean rolled her eyes.  "Lance, come on.  I don't want you to have a boring evening just because I have a bad vibe or something.  Go along with the others." 

"But—" he began to protest. 

"Lance," she said warningly, and he took the hint.  

************************************************************************

"Well, here we are," Scott said with dry cheeriness in his voice.  He would much rather have stayed with Jean, but didn't want to be practically forced to go as Lance had been.  

"So, what's the name of this film?" Todd asked.  

"I think it's _Board Girls_," Fred answered, scratching his chin.  "I can't remember exactly." 

"Yeah, that's the one," Evan said.  On the way to the theater, the gang had picked him up from detention, for which he was very grateful.  "I heard this one is actually pretty decent." 

"Let's hope," Lance said.  "It doesn't feel right seeing this without Jean." 

"Are you two going out or something?" Evan asked.  

"I guess you could say that," Lance smirked. 

"You and Jean are not 'going out,' Lance," Scott said coldly.  "She's closer to me than she is to you." 

"Funny, I don't remember her being with you more than usual today." 

"Guys," Todd cut in.  "Calm down, yo.  We don't wanna get kicked out before we see any hot surfer chicks, do we?" 

Tensions still high between Lance and Scott, the group moved to purchase some tickets.  Lance hung back for a moment, wondering just why Jean felt so compelled to stay at the Institute.  Was something important happening there?  Would she need him?  

Lance let out a heavy sigh, inwardly praying that Jean would have the strength to survive whatever was going on.  

**********************************************************************

At the Institute, Jean was in her room, lying on her floor and writhing.  She had been able to fool the others into believing that her headaches were "bad vibes," but that would not last very long.  Once they returned from the movies, they would want an answer.  

_Lance_ would want an answer. 

At this thought, her headache seemed to intensify significantly, and Jean let out a barely audible squeak of pain.  She had thought her problem had subsided after that very unusual dream, but now it was back, with a vengeance.  

Breathing deeply, she focused on the pain, and it slowly began lessening.  After what might have been an hour, the killer headache had turned into a rather light one, and then virtually vanished.  

Sighing gratefully for the turn of good luck, Jean cautiously got to her feet and went to the door.  She entered the hallway to find it empty, unless you counted the faint noises coming from Moira's room.  

Jean left her chamber and had just passed Moira's door when it opened, the older woman catching sight of Jean and smiling.  

"Ah, Jean, just the one A was looking for!" she said happily.  "Do ye think A could talk with ye?" 

Jean fumbled her words for a moment before answering clearly, "Sure." 

Moira smiled gratefully and accompanied Jean down the hall at a steady stroll.  Though Jean was curious as to why exactly Moira wanted to speak with her, she didn't ask.  She wasn't certain what was keeping her from asking, which bothered her.  

"Tell me, Jean," Moira said after a brief silence, "do ye go on vacation much?" 

"Uh, no, not really.  Bayville's the only place I've ever been to, other than my own hometown and Northbrook, along with where Evan's from and this one place down South—but those weren't vacations, to be honest."  

Moira shrugged.  "Aye, well, we cannae be too picky, now can we?" 

Jean smiled, feeling herself becoming emotionally well.  Perhaps Moira had that effect on people, because Jean was starting to feel better and better each moment she was with the Scottish doctor—at least, in spirit and emotion.  Her headache still buzzed faintly in the back of her mind.  

"Have ye ever been to the British Isles, lass?" Moira said.  

Jean shook her head.  

"Ah, that's too bad," Moira said, shaking her head.  "Ireland and Scotland are great if'n ye ignore the British.  That lot tends to be a bit rude in my opinion.  As for Muir Island, things could be better.  The place is slightly harsh, what with the cold weather and all that, but ye learn to accept things and it turns out to be not so bad." 

"I guess," Jean said, unsure of what exactly to say. 

"More like ye know," Moira said.  

Jean's brow furrowed in wonderment, but as she was about to ask what Moira meant, Xavier rolled around the far corner of the hallway.  

"Oh, there you are, Jean!" he said, relief etched all over his face as he approached.  "I believe I have found Rogue, unless I am much mistaken." 

Jean gave a pleased sigh.  "Thank God.  I was almost beginning to worry about her."  

"Aye," Moira nodded.  "A myself become worried about lost children."  

Xavier glowered coldly at Moira, who appeared unaffected.  Jean glanced at each, curiosity rising.  What was going on here? 

"No one here is lost, Moira," Xavier said stiffly.  

Jean blinked, surprised at his tone.  She couldn't remember him being this way, not once.  There had to be some "ancient history" at work here, and Jean decided it would be best if she just waited it out in her room.  

"Nay, lass, ye can stay," Moira said, a smirk appearing on her face.  "A'm sure Charles he won't mind _keeping ye around_."  

Jean's mind was flooding with questions.  She wanted to know what Moira was talking about; she wanted to know why her mentor was acting so cold; she wanted to know where Rogue was.  Of course, there were many more questions, but Jean doubted there were enough answers.  

"Moira," Xavier said, his tone icy and dark.  

The woman only laughed.  "Charles, ye wouldna stop me if'n ye could." 

"She does _not need to know_, Moira."  

Jean studied the Professor and noticed he was sweating, as though worried greatly.  Was he purposely keeping something important from her?  And, if so, what was it?  Did it pertain to Rogue, or to the X-Men as a whole?  

Jean looked back at Moira, who was watching Xavier with a smug expression of determination on her face.  The woman appeared almost all-powerful on looks alone, and Jean felt a little relief in knowing that Moira was not omnipotent.  

"She doesna need to know, eh?" Moira repeated angrily.  "A listen to ye all the time, and what does it get me?  A broken family, that's what!  Ye've been running the show without question since it began, Charles, and A cannae get on with it anymore.  A've been sitting all be me lonesome self out on Muir Island, watching and waiting, and what have ye been doing?  Lying through yuir teeth, that's what!" 

Jean decided she should really go now.  Whatever Moira and Xavier were talking about was something she shouldn't be listening to.  As she made to leave, though, Moira again stopped her.  

"Jean, ye'd be best served staying right where ye are." 

"Moira, please!" the Professor said.  To Jean's utter astonishment, he sounded as though he were actually _begging_ Moira not to go on.  

"Oh, for God's sake, Charles, stop pleading like such a little bairn," Moira said.  "A'm gonna tell the lass." 

"And I suppose you won't let me do it myself?" he asked.  "I have every bit as much a right as you do." 

"Aye, but be that as it may, ye've been telling her everything from the start."  

"I'm still the one who did the deed, and therefore I should be the one to atone for it," Xavier countered.  

Moira laughed.  "Fine then, Charles.  Ye want to tell her, then go right ahead." 

Jean finally found her voice and asked, "Tell me what, Professor?" 

Xavier seemed to force himself to look at her.  He sighed heavily, almost _too_ heavily, before speaking.  

"Despite everything you have been taught to believe, Jean, I am telling you the truth when I say that John and Martha Grey are, in reality, your _adoptive_ parents." 

For a long moment, no one said a word, nor did they move.  Xavier and Moira both watched Jean, whose face was a mask of complete shock.  She stared at the Professor, hoping this was all some sick joke he and Moira had concocted… 

But, no, Jean could see it in his eyes: He was indeed telling her the truth about her family.  

Jean's mouth had gone dry, and she had to swallow a few times before speaking.  

"My _adoptive_ parents?" she echoed.  "But, I don't understand, Professor.  How could they be my adoptive parents?  I've seen proof that I'm their natural child!" 

Xavier shook his head.  "It's all fake.  I'm the one that forged it." 

Jean had to force her next words out, her throat was constricting so tightly.  

"Then…then who are my real parents?" she asked, feeling her eyes becoming watery with potential tears. 

Xavier glanced at Moira before answering the redhead.  

"We are." 

It was almost too much for Jean to take.  Her throat had become so tight she could hardly breathe, and it took everything she had to remain standing.  Her eyes continuously flicked from Moira to Xavier and back again.  Her mind was reeling, seemingly unable to absorb the Professor's words.  

"You're…you're my _father_?" Jean managed to rasp out, staring transfixed at Xavier.  

Heavily, he nodded.  "And Moira here, as I have said, is your real mother, Jean."  

Jean, though, wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying.  She was backing away, still staring at him, her heart pounding like a cannon in her ears.  She edged backwards, steadily moving faster.  

"No," she said numbly.  "No, it's-it's not true.  Y-you can't be my father, or my parents.  You're lying, you have to be!" 

"Jean, I swear I am telling you the truth!" Xavier insisted.  "If you will just accompany Moira and myself to the labs, I will show you—"  

But the moment he held out his hand, whether it was for Jean to take or as a gesture, the girl completely lost it.  She broke out into tears, her cheeks quickly becoming wet, and turned and ran.  She ignored the calls to return, blocking out completely the telepathic pleas.  

Jean raced into her room, the slam of the door echoing loudly.  Her legs gave out beneath her, and she fell to the floor, her sobs and mumbling filling the room.  She had no strength to move, nor did she have the strength to do anything else.  All she could do was lie on the floor, crying loudly and incessantly, the shocking revelation replaying itself over and over in her mind.  

One horrified thought was in her head, and it was a thought she did not know if she could handle. 

_Professor Xavier…is my father? _

**********************************************************************

AUTHOR: My God, what have I just done? 

READ N REVIEW! 


	12. Runaway

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait! 

TO Sandoz: Once again, you are getting well ahead of everyone with the "Proteus Thing."  Hold your horses, if you please.  

TO sylvester: What do you mean by "j/k"? 

TO furygrrl: "Assuage my dying c"? 

TO Rageful Jewel aka Dark Jewel: "Do what she did before in the series when she met the X-Men"?  You have me utterly confused, and I hope you offer an explanation.  And for future reference, Kevin MacTaggert is the first Proteus, with Piecemeal as the second.  

************************************************************************

Chapter 12: Runaway 

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/ 

/ 

/ 

She couldn't remember falling asleep, but when Jean opened her eyes, it appeared to be morning.  The sun streaked gently in through the window, just missing her bed and brightening a large section of the carpet.  Because she heard birds chirping happily, Jean guessed the window was open.  

Rubbing her eyes, Jean slowly climbed out of bed, feeling rather uncomfortable.  She wondered what was wrong with her, and whether or not it had to do with the previous night.  Her head was aching again, but she ignored this.  For some reason, her senses told her nothing was right.  

_But what's not right?_ she wondered, staring around her room.  Everything appeared perfectly normal, even the clock.  

Jean did a double take, realizing the numbers on the digital clock made no sense.  She remembered the five-day forecast had said that the next day would be overcast because it would be raining all night long.  So why was there sunshine?  Surely Ororo wouldn't use her powers unless there was a very good reason.  

There was a sudden clap of thunder, and Jean started.  She opened her eyes, realizing she was now, for some reason, on her stomach on the floor.  The bright world drained away, replaced by the real one.  Another clap of thunder sounded, and reality sank in: Jean had only been dreaming for a little bit.  

Her moment of possible happiness gone, Jean felt the tears well up again, ready to start crying once more.  She didn't want to be back in this world, where her parents were not her parents and her mentor and recent acquaintance were.  

Mustering what strength she had, Jean stood up, pushing the tears back and still ignoring the pounding headache.  She had to compose herself, because wallowing in misery wouldn't help.  Her parents would not want her to do such a thing.  

My parents… 

At this thought, Jean looked to one of the pictures on her nightstand.  Usually partially obscured by the picture of Scott, the framed photo of Jean and her parents was one of the most cherished things she had brought with her to Bayville.  Jean slowly picked the picture up, staring at it as if transfixed.  In the picture, John and Martha Grey, along with their daughter, appeared very happy.  

_But not anymore_, Jean thought sullenly.  _My whole life is being destroyed, and all because of "family."  Maybe I should have stayed home and dealt with this mutant problem myself.  At least then I wouldn't be learning that my life has been nothing but a huge lie, that my mother's been over in Europe for God knows how long, and that my father has been spoon-feeding me false truths_.  

Jean could feel her blood slowly heating up with anger.  She put the family photo down, not wanting to damage it despite whatever was going on.  Backing away from the nightstand, Jean turned, hoping that cleaning herself up might do some good.  

But as she moved to the bathroom, she inadvertently glanced at her dresser, catching sight of a photo of her and the Professor.  She stopped and then changed course, walking over and staring down at the picture, her eyes smoldering.  The photo showed a shy Jean Grey when she was first admitted to the Institute, standing next to a smiling and perfect-gentleman Professor.  

A sudden burst of anger filled Jean.  Before she realized what she was doing, she snatched up the picture and chucked it as hard as she could at her door.  It hit the wood and shattered, pieces going everywhere on the carpet near the portal.  Blinking, Jean saw what she had done and sucked in a deep breath, the tears returning in full force.  

She staggered over to her bed, collapsed onto it, and promptly began with the waterworks.  She didn't know how loud her sobs were, and didn't really care; all that mattered now was the pain she was going through.  Even the tiniest thing seemed to hurt.  

***********************************************************************

In the study, Xavier and Moira were sitting near the fire, talking.  Xavier hadn't told his wife that, not long ago, Magneto had sat where she placed herself, and he didn't want to tell her for fear of further angering her.  

After Jean had fled to her room in tears, Moira had become calmly enraged at her husband.  She had scolded him on a number of charges, including willful neglect.  Though he did not tell her, Xavier was sure he _was_ guilty of such a charge, owing that he had given his own daughter away to a couple he knew from his long-gone teaching days and proceeded to carefully monitor and manipulate events.  

Now, though, those manipulations were gone, and the truth had been revealed—to some extent, at least.  Both he and Moira knew _why_ he had decided to take Jean to America, rather than stay in her homeland of Scotland.  However, he was positive telling the girl the reason would only exacerbate matters; she had more than enough on her plate already.  

"Ye know, Charles, someone's going to have to talk to the lass," Moira said after a moment of silence.  "She's probably still crying her head off, and A just know she'll be drowning in sorrow."  

"Jean's stronger than that," Xavier said.  "She isn't going to start committing suicide attempts to alleviate her stress.  Besides, there are multiple people with whom she could talk her problems over." 

"Oh?" 

Xavier nodded.  "Scott, Logan, Ororo, Rogue, perhaps even Lance, now that she's apparently formed a relationship with him." 

Moira eyed Xavier closely.  "And how did ye know that?" 

"It was fairly easy to detect her affections for Lance when the children decided to go to the movies."  

Moira nodded understanding.  "A think A should go talk with her."  

"You shouldn't go alone," Xavier said, accompanying her to the door.  "Logan's just arrived back, and Ororo has a knack for healing wounds."  

Moira took a moment to consider.  "A suppose, but A'm sure A'll be the only one to really help her." 

Xavier nodded.  

"A'll see you, Charles."  

Moira left, heading straight for her daughter's room.  Despite the Professor's words, she was certain the young mutant girl wouldn't be in such a terrible state.  After all, the MacTaggert bloodline had a _history_ of strong people, both mentally and physically.  Naturally, the people included Moira's children, and thus the Scottish doctor was sure her telepathic daughter would survive this new turmoil fairly easily.  

"Moira," Ororo greeted as she and Logan approached Jean's door from the other end of the hall.  The woman was dressed casually, but Logan still wore his biker attire.  "We were hoping to meet you here." 

Moira laughed.  "Not like ye had much of a choice.  A'm sure Charles timed it telepathically." 

"Actually, he didn't.  I wanted us to back each other up if Jean gets too violent."  

Moira raised an eyebrow.  "Not a bad plan, Ororo.  Let's just hope it works as well as it sounds."  

Logan grunted.  "Should I go first, or what?" 

Moira smiled at him.  "A see no reason why not, Logan.  After all, men are some of the worst healers on the planet." 

Logan gave her a mixed expression.  "Uh, thanks…I think."  Stepping up to the door, he knocked a couple of times and called, "Jeannie, you wanna open up and let old Logan in?" 

The sobs and crying stopped coming from the room long enough to Jean to scream through the door.  

"_Go away!_" she yelled, and then dissolved into tears and sobs once more.  

Logan looked to Ororo and then Moira, who said, "Well, that went well."  

"Let me try," Ororo suggested.  When Logan stepped away from the door, Ororo came up to it and called through it.  "Jean, I know you really don't want to, but opening the door and letting me in so we can talk things over is something you should do." 

When Jean didn't respond, Moira leaned over to Ororo and whispered, "What did Charles tell ye?" 

"Only that Jean has suffered a great shock and needs help getting over it," the wind-rider answered.  "Why?" 

"Because Charles told the lass she was adopted by the Grey family and that Charles and A are her real parents." 

For a couple of moments, Logan and Ororo stared in surprise at Moira, whose face was expressionless.  Ororo glanced to Logan, who decided to speak.  

"Should you even be trying to help Jean?" he asked Moira.  "I mean, no offense or anything, but she might just push you away for lying to her." 

Moira was, despite Logan's words, highly offended.  "A've never lied to Jean!  A've only just got here!" 

Surprised by her fury, Logan took a step back.  "Sorry, I just—" 

Ororo held up a hand.  "I think you had better tell the Professor of whatever progress you made in tracking Rogue, Logan."  

Logan nodded, and was about to go when Moira said impatiently, "He said he already knows where she is, but down let that stop ye, because he could have lied to keep me from telling Jean the truth." 

Again, the two mutants stared at Moira.  Then, shaking his head for some reason, Logan headed off in the direction of the Professor's study, leaving the women alone.  When he was gone, Ororo tried a second time with Jean.  

"Jean, please, let me in.  I only want to talk with you.  I know you are not in the best mood right now, but you need to allow me to help you.  You know that I care for you very much, even though we are not related.  If you do not want my help, then say so, otherwise I am coming in."  

When Jean did not reply, Ororo took a deep breath and took hold of the doorknob.  She turned it, pushed the door open some, and let her breath out, relieved that Jean was not resisting her attempts at help.  She glanced at Moira, who nodded encouragingly, and then entered the telepath's room.  

What Ororo saw almost broke her heart: Jean was lying on her stomach on her bed, head buried in her arms, the covers disheveled and wet in some spots.  Ororo took a step forward, and, hearing something scrape the soles of her shoes, looked down to find a broken photo frame, the picture crumpled from her stepping.  

Standing to one side, Ororo closed the door and then bent down to pick up the picture.  It was from Jean's first day at the Institute, a picture Ororo herself had taken.  Usually, remembering such a time was not a bad thing for the African mutant.  But now, under these circumstances, seeing the photo caused her to wonder just what kind of a man the Professor really was.  

_Just get on with it_, she told herself.  Standing back up, Ororo approached Jean, placing the crumpled picture on the nightstand, barely noticing the one of Jean and Scott had been removed.  She sat on the bed, putting a hand on Jean's back before speaking.  

"Jean, I'm not going to pretend I know how terrible you must feel, and I will not pretend I understand.  What I want you to realize is that, however much you are going through, others have also gone through, in different ways and for different reasons.  Neither I nor the Professor ever told you that I lost almost my entire family when a jet plane crashed in my home village, years ago in Africa."  

Perhaps surprised by the woman's revelation, Jean steadily lessened her sobs and turned her head to look at Ororo.  The wind-rider continued talking.  

"When that happened, my sister was spared being trapped beneath rubble, but I was not.  I can still remember screaming things that made sense and things that did not, never once praying to survive, all because I was terrified.  Because of that tragedy, I cannot stand closed spaces.  I'm claustrophobic, Jean.  

"Now, I have only been told by Moira, a moment ago, that you were adopted, and that she and the Professor are your real parents.  However, your situation is not as tragic as mine: You were taken in and raised by a loving couple, you attended school and still do, you have a relationship with a frankly wonderful young man, and you are a wonderful person yourself."  

Ororo paused, and Jean found herself wanting to hear more.  Perhaps the old saying was right: Talking _did_ help.  

"I never had any of that, not until I forced myself to stop stealing to survive and went back to school.  You, despite all your hardships, even those of late, have not had to suffer the way I have.  True, Professor Xavier may have lied to you about anything involving his connections to you.  True, he may have kept the truth from you.  True, he may have made it so that even your mother said not a word to you.  But, in all fairness, I am absolutely sure he did this for a _reason_."  

Upon hearing this, Jean's tears threatened to overtake her again.  She opened her mouth and sputtered, "_A reason?_  What could Professor Xavier have _possibly_ considered a _reason?_" 

Ororo shook her head.  "I do not know, Jean, but I am very sure that both of us are capable of at least guessing.  Perhaps Charles wanted to protect from something or someone; perhaps he felt he was unprepared to be a father; perhaps Moira did not feel ready to raise a child; perhaps they did not have the financial resources to raise a child at the time.  There are countless reasons."  

"But why tell me now?" Jean asked.  "It doesn't make sense that they keep me in the dark for so long and then talk!" 

Again, Ororo shook her head.  "I don't know.  What I _do_ know, Jean, is that locking yourself away from the world will solve _nothing_.  Wallowing in misery never helped anyone.  Moira MacTaggert is standing out in the hallway, waiting to speak with her daughter, someone whom I am sure she loves more than life itself, as any mother does with her children."  

Jean looked away from Ororo, staring at her tear-soaked covers.  Slowly, she nodded.  

Ororo patted her on the back.  "That's the spirit, Jean.  Just talk with Moira, and I am certain you will feel at least a little better.  At the _absolute_ least, you will have some answers to your questions." 

*********************************************************************

Ororo left Jean's room, closing the door softly behind her.  Moira was leaning against the far wall, a bored expression on her face.  As Ororo moved to leave for the common room so she could meet the young X-Men when they returned, Moira spoke.  

"How's the lass doing?" 

Ororo stopped and turned to face the other woman.  "I believe Jean is all right for the moment, but you should do what you can."  

Moira nodded and went to Jean's door as Ororo left.  She entered, finding the redhead sitting on her bed, hunched over and miserable-looking.  Moira doubted anyone could misinterpret the look on her face: She was clearly pained, her heart aching at the site of Jean appearing so downtrodden.  

Walking over to the bed, Moira sat down next to Jean, who did not stir.  Moira almost put her hand on Jean's shoulder, hoping it would comfort the girl, but then withdrew her hand, deciding against such an action.  Jean might not like being touched at the moment.  Knowing she had to speak sooner or later, Moira opened her mouth.  

"Jean, A know yuir not overly pleased with things right now, but they need to be discussed."  

To Moira's surprise, Jean's first words were not laced with anger or bitterness.  Instead, she spoke in a choked voice, like anyone who has just finished crying his or her head off.  

"You could say that," Jean said.  "I just want to know…" 

"Aye?" 

"Why did you and the Professor put me with the Greys?" Jean asked.  "I mean, did you not want me or something?" 

Moira shook her head.  "Nay, Jean, A wanted to keep ye around forever.  Charles and A both loved ye more than life itself, still do, but we really didna have a choice.  A know it's not very nice or honest of me to refuse to tell ye, but the reason we gave ye to an old student of Charles' is that big.  We had a terrible choice to make, and A thought Charles knew what he was doing.  A hoped he gave ye to good people, and he did, and A'm glad, even though the 'good people' were not Charles and meself."  

Jean's eyes narrowed.  "You're not going to tell me?  After I'm told my whole life was a lie, you won't tell me why you handed me over to some couple?  Why not?" she demanded.  

"Jean, please!" Moira pleaded.  "Ye cannae begin to imagine why we had to give ye up.  Charles was just as wrecked by the decision as I was, perhaps even more so!  A had to keep me silence, staying on Muir Island and saying nothing to ye, while he had to force himself to lie over and over to ye.  Donna ye get it?  He's just as hurt by this all as ye are!" 

Jean did her best to calm down, but it was very difficult.  She wanted dearly to rip the answers from this woman's mind, but she knew such a thing was something she should never do.  

"Then at least answer my other questions," Jean said.  "Who am I, really?"  

"Ye may have yuir name as 'Jean Grey,' but ye're real identity is Jean MacTaggert.  Charles wanted ye to have his last name, but A told him it would be unwise." 

"Why?" 

Moira let out a heavy sigh.  "Because of the reason A cannae tell ye why we gave ye up." 

Jean was incredulous.  "So you won't tell me why you gave me to the Greys, or anything relating to that subject?" 

"For the most part, aye." 

Jean made a frustrated sound.  "I can't believe this!"  

Abruptly, her headache threatened to return, and she clutched her head, forcing it back down.  Moira noticed this, and studied her daughter apprehensively.  

"What is it, Jean?"  

"I keep getting these headaches," the girl replied.  "I don't suppose you can tell me anything about them, since I'm sure _my father_ and you know something?" 

Moira shook her head.  "Jean, A hate to keep from telling ye, A really do, but A cannae tell ye why ye get yuir headaches."  

"Let me guess: It has to do with giving me up?" 

"Somewhat.  Might have something to do with yuir brother." 

"I have a _brother?_" Jean asked.  

Moira nodded.  "Aye, and he very much wants to come here and meet his beloved sister.  A told him nay, that he had to keep on Muir Island until he was ready.  He's more of a handful than ye can imagine."  

"Are you really my birth mother, or are you a puppet yourself?" Jean asked, doing her best not to sound offensive.  

Moira shook her head, chuckling.  "Nay, we're related by blood.  Ye're me daughter, and A'm proud to have ye in me family.  The MacTaggert Clan usually produces great people."  

Jean hesitated speaking for a moment, and then forced the words past her lips.  

"Mom?" 

Moira raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat pleased at being called that.  "Aye?" 

"What's your real name?" 

"Me full name is Moira Kinross MacTaggert, with Xavier tagged on the end 'cause A'm married." 

"And my name?" 

"Jean Kinross MacTaggert.  Like A said, A wouldna let Charles give ye his last name.  Things get a little complicated there, because ye may think he wanted ye to have his surname at birth, but that's not true: He wanted ye to have his surname when we gave ye up.  Charles and A had already agreed ye'd have me last name and not his."  

Jean nodded mutely.  Moira stood up, finally putting her hand on Jean's shoulder and rubbing it in what she hoped was an affectionate way.  The girl still looked deeply upset, and she would probably be acting strange for a while to come, but Moira was sure Jean wouldn't do anything too rash.  

"A'll leave ye be now, Jean," she told her daughter.  "Ye look miserable, completely miserable, and A know ye need some time alone to think about everything."  

Jean nodded, saying nothing.  Moira turned and left, heading for Xavier's study.  She needed to tell him about what she had said to Jean, even though she would much rather keep it from him.  After all, it was because of him that Jean didn't greet her with open arms, something Moira had secretly been hoping for.  

_Ah, well, at least things aren't_ too _bad_, the Scottish woman thought.  

***********************************************************************

Ororo was done the first five chapters of _The Cassandra Compact_ by Robert Ludlum when the young X-Men arrived home.  From the sounds they made, each had enjoyed the film—except for Lance, who appeared to be in a slight hurry.  

"Lance, wait!" Ororo said when he started up the stairs.  

"What?" he asked impatiently.  

"I was hoping to have a word with you and the others," Ororo said, gesturing to the common room.  

Lance, looking slightly annoyed he had to wait, followed Ororo, as did the others.  They all took seats, puzzled expressions all around.  Ororo waited until they were all seated to speak.  

"I'm going to get straight to the point, if you don't mind.  Jean has suffered something of an emotional blow, and has not yet recovered."  Despite the shocked looks that seemed to beg for details, Ororo went on.  "She is very upset, and most likely also very sensitive, so I ask you all to not approach her with questions until she is better." 

"Red's hurt, yo?" Todd asked.  "What happened?" 

"I am not at liberty to say, Todd," Ororo answered.  "You will have to ask Jean.  She's currently in her room, and not in a good mood." 

"Shouldn't we be trying to help her?" Scott demanded.  "I mean, she's one of us!" 

"Scott, I already told you that Jean is not well.  Bothering her could only worsen things."  

Sitting perfectly still, Lance managed not to keep from racing to Jean's room.  True, he had only gotten together with her earlier in the day, and it wasn't official as far as he knew, but he really did care about her.  She was nice to him, which was a change from how people usually treated him, and he suspected she secretly liked him more than she did Scott.  Even though chances were slim, Lance was sure he could nail her.  Fleetingly, an image of Jean in a wedding dress flashed through his mind, and he grinned to himself.  Such a future may come true.  

"Um, Ororo?" he asked.  

"Yes, Lance?" 

"Where's Rogue?  She wasn't at the theater, and we were kinda hoping she'd be back."  

For a moment, Ororo hesitated to answer.  She certainly didn't want to worry the children with both Rogue and Jean's conditions, but what was there to say?  No, she had to tell them the truth, because they would find out eventually.  

"Rogue," said the Professor, rolling into the common room, "is currently at the Brotherhood House."  

His words hit like a meteor: Scott stared in shock, simply gazing at the Professor; Lance's jaw hung low; Fred and Todd blinked in surprise; Evan looked stunned; Ororo stared in disbelief.  

"I know it is shocking," Xavier said, "but I'm sure she has a very good reason for being there.  In fact, she contacted me earlier, after having a confrontation at school with Kurt Wagner.  I'm very sure that Rogue is doing nothing but returning Kurt to his home."  

"Are you sure, Professor?" Scott asked, and Lance could see proof that his theory about Rogue and Scott was correct.  "What if something else is happening there?  We all know what the Brotherhood's like."  

Xavier nodded.  "I know, but Rogue is a strong young woman, and I have no doubt she could handle the Brotherhood if she really had to.  We have to put some faith in her."  

"But what if something _is_ up?" Evan asked.  "Those guys are dangerous." 

"If something is happening, we will see that Rogue is returned to us.  Hopefully, Mystique will not attempt to use Rogue as a bargaining chip.  Such an action could lead to disastrous ends."  

"Charles," Ororo said.  "I know this may create awful implications, but Rogue should have been back some while ago if she was only delivering Nightcrawler to the Brotherhood House.  It does not take very long to get from here to there, which makes one wonder—"  

***********************************************************************

"—What you are doing here," Mystique finished.  "That is what your friends, the X-Men, will wonder.  They might think you're up to something, Rogue.  Doesn't that bother you?" 

Rogue snorted.  "I'm only here 'cause I was told you know something."  

"To be honest," Mystique replied as she sat down opposite Rogue in the living room armchair, "I know a great many things.  I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that."  

"My legal guardian told me you know something about Nightcrawler and me." 

"Something about Nightcrawler and you," Mystique repeated.  

"That's right." 

"Well, to be honest again, I know a great many things about Kurt and yourself, Rogue." 

"Don't play games with me, Mystique!" Rogue snapped.  "I came here 'cause Irene said Kurt and I have some kind of common link, and it leads to you.  Now, I want to know what that link is."  

Mystique opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, Kitty sank through the ceiling, dropping to the floor between Rogue and the shape-shifter.  

"I got Kurt, like, all cleaned up and in bed, Mystique," the girl reported.  

"That's good, Kitty.  Now, why don't you and the others keep an eye on him while I speak with Rogue here?" 

Nodding, Kitty phased herself into a wall, vanishing.  Rogue had watched her leave, but then immediately went back to eyeing Mystique.  

"Hopefully, you haven't seriously harmed my son," she said darkly to Rogue.  "I may care about the both of you, but he, sadly, is closer to me than you are." 

Rogue narrowed her eyes, regarding the woman with suspicion.  "What are you talking about?" 

"Kurt knows where his loyalties lie, and they should be where yours lie too, Rogue." 

The Goth laughed dryly.  "Me, join the Brotherhood?  You're joking, right?" 

Mystique shook her head, her eyes never moving from Rogue.  "No, I am not.  You have what it takes to be a valuable member of the Brotherhood."  

"And I would want to join, why?" Rogue asked, beginning to seethe.  

Mystique raised an eyebrow.  "Didn't Destiny tell you, Rogue?  Or did she only hint?" 

Caught utterly off-guard, Rogue blinked.  After a moment, she managed to say, "What are you talking about?  Who's Destiny?" 

Mystique laughed harshly, sounding genuinely amused.  "Oh please, Rogue.  The very least you can do is not play stupid.  You should already know _exactly_ who Destiny is." 

Rogue stared in puzzlement at the leader of the Brotherhood, trying to figure out what was going on.  She was absolutely sure she had never once met anyone named Destiny, but from Mystique's words the person sounded familiar.  Did this mean that Rogue and Destiny knew each other, perhaps as friends?  

_No, that can't be_, Rogue thought.  _I never made many friends, and none that ever called themselves "Destiny."  Maybe Mystique's just pulling my leg.  I don't know why Irene—_

Rogue's eyes went wide as the truth dawned upon her.  Irene and Destiny—they were one and the same!  

_But, but it_ can't _be like that_, Rogue hoped.  _Irene's my friend.  She wouldn't be involved with somebody as nasty as Mystique…would she?_

Connections in the mind were being made, and Rogue had to accept the facts: Irene was walking around the school grounds, something extremely unusual in itself, especially when coupled with the fact that she seemed to be _waiting_ for Rogue to appear; Irene had urged Rogue to join the Brotherhood, despite the Goth's protests; Irene had known about Mystique, had even been the one to mention the common bond they shared; and Irene had also had the calmness to her, the composure that Rogue should have realized meant her guardian was on the other side of the fence.  

Unable to say anything, Rogue sank deeply into the couch, face in her hands.  Mystique said nothing, instead standing up and walking over to Rogue.  She put a white-gloved hand on the girl's shoulder, and when Rogue did not remove it, Mystique spoke.  

"I know we seem like very bad people to you, Rogue, but I assure you that we do mean well.  Each of us is here for a different reason:  I am here for mutant prosperity, and for my family; Kitty is here because those with power have shunned her; Pietro is here because he would hardly be accepted in the X-Men; Bobby is here because his family no longer accepts him as their own flesh and blood.  

"But you, Rogue, why would you be here?  It could be for a number of reasons: Your family is here, and thus the Brotherhood is where you rightfully belong; your fellow X-Men do not understand you the way we would; you want to know more about your past, and have therefore come to the only people who can provide you with the desired information.  The list goes on and on, Rogue.  Should I pick a reason, or do you want to?" 

"Would you just tell me what this 'common link' is already so I can go home?" Rogue asked.  

"And where _is_ your home, Rogue?" Mystique asked.  "Back at the Institute, where no one even _knows who you are?_  Charles Xavier may allow you under his roof, but has he ever once tried to help you learn your real past?  Haven't any of the other X-Men questioned you about your name?"  

"What's it matter to you?" Rogue demanded.  

Despite the growing tension of the room, Mystique kept her temper down.  Everything had to be done calmly if she was to acquire the girl.  

"It matters, Rogue, because I know what kind of a person your dear Professor really is," the shape-shifter answered softly.  

The words hit Rogue like a slap to the face, and she stood staring in wonderment at Mystique for several moments.  Then, regaining herself, she narrowed her eyes.  

"What?" 

"How do you imagine Xavier would react if you had asked him to piece together your past?" 

Rogue hesitated only a second, and only because something wasn't right.  "He'd agree to help."  

"But would he _actually_ help, or merely taunt you with empty promises?  I know a lot about Charles Xavier, Rogue.  Far more than you can imagine." 

"Oh yeah?" Rogue demanded.  "Like what?" 

"Like the fact that he manipulated his own child."  

Rogue said nothing, too shocked to respond.  _The Professor, manipulate his own child?  But why?  Is Mystique lying?_

"You believe me," Mystique said with an evil smile.  

Rogue shook her head.  "No, no, he wouldn't lie to us, and definitely not to his own family.  You're the one who's lying, Mystique!" 

"Rogue, damn it, will you _listen_ to me!" Mystique snarled.  "Charles Xavier abandoned his child and came here, all but forgetting about it.  I never abandoned my son, but I did come close to doing such a thing with you!" 

A thick silence followed her words.  Rogue twisted around, hardly noticing Mystique's hand had fallen from her shoulder, staring in utter astonishment at the woman.  

"What…what are you talking about?" Rogue rasped, barely able to say anything.  

Mystique sighed greatly and returned to the armchair, sinking into it.  She looked into Rogue's eyes and spoke in a flat, honest tone.  

"Fifteen years ago, I gave birth to the blue mutant upstairs.  Only a few years afterward, I decided that a sibling would do him good.  I adopted you when you were four years old, Rogue, because I hoped Kurt would find a friend in a sister.  While you two did get along for the first couple of months, things steadily became worse.  My…occupation was becoming more and more threatening to my family life.  I didn't want to lose either of you, but I had little choice; either I send the two of you somewhere safe, or I risk your lives.  

"In the end, I made the choice to send you to my most trusted friend.  Irene became your legal guardian, and I hid Kurt until things cleared up.  Unfortunately, my…employer…would not allow me the luxury of seeing my family away from Germany, so I was forced to make long-range communications.  I kept a watchful eye on you, but somewhere along that path Kurt forgot about his sister.  Apparently, so have you." 

Rogue's throat, which seemed to have tightened greatly, undid itself enough for her to ask, "Are you saying you're my mother?" 

Mystique nodded.  "That's right, Rogue.  Kurt and I are the only family you have left, which is a prime reason you should be here with us in the Brotherhood.  Here, we can finally be together again, inseparable.  Isn't that something you want, to be part of a family that understands who and what you are?  Human parents won't understand you, and that is solely because you are a mutant.  With us, not only the Brotherhood but your parent and sibling, you can finally know who you are, what you are, where your place in the world is!  You can be _happy_!" 

Rogue stared at Mystique, unable to find words, or even the breath to say them.  Her entire life had just been redefined, it would seem, and she had no idea what to do.  She had always wanted to have a real family, a mother and father and maybe even a couple of siblings—but this was that very dream being offered to her by someone she knew better than to take candy from; Mystique was dangerous.  

"I…I don't know," Rogue said, hunching over and putting her head in her hands.  "I want to have a family, always have, but finding out my only relations are my enemies isn't something I expected.  I can't trust you." 

Mystique shook her head.  "No, Rogue, it's Xavier you can't trust.  He never did anything for you, and he especially didn't help you find your real family.  I knew where you were, Rogue.  In fact, I always have, but my work keeps me from being a mother to you, which is something I should be.  Irene may fulfill that role to a great degree, but it is a role that is rightfully mine, and I at least deserve a chance at it."  

Rogue laughed dryly.  "Yeah, you've been a great mother.  Just look how evil your son is." 

"Kurt may seem quite volatile, but he's lived a very hard and rather unforgiving life.  I'll have you know I was forced to keep him inside our home in Germany practically all the time.  The locals always suspected our family was more than meets the eye, no matter what I told them.  You won't believe how hard they tried to get me to bring my 'afflicted son' to the church so that the power of God would heal him."  Mystique laughed humorlessly.  

"But if I join the Brotherhood, I'd be betraying the X-Men.  You may think the Professor never did anything for me, or gave me anything, but he let me live under his roof, eat his food, and put clothes on my back."  

Mystique stood, walking over to Rogue's side and getting down on one knee, looking the girl in the eye.  "Be that as it may, you still owe us something.  You owe me for giving you a family, for giving you a place to live, and for making sure someone kept you in the best of care.  I may not be the best mother in the world, Rogue, but I _am_ your mother, and you owe me at least one chance to try and fix the relationship we have." 

Rogue looked down at the floor before responding.  "What would you even do if I did join?" 

"Care for you, of course," Mystique said simply.  "You're my daughter; how could I neglect you?"  

"Gee, maybe by having me fight my friends?" Rogue asked sarcastically.  

Mystique sighed.  "There is that.  To be honest, though, I wouldn't force you to do it.  The choice would be entirely yours.  But, if you think about it in terms of enemies and knowledge, the X-Men stand to gain something even if you join for a little while."  

Rogue looked at the woman, her interest snagged.  "Stand to gain what?" 

"The knowledge of how we work together, how we plan our attacks, what our members are really like—the possibilities are limitless.  Even if you were to go back, you could be hailed as a sort of heroine for coming up with such a brilliant strategy as to switch sides."  

Rogue thought about this.  She still didn't trust Mystique, seriously doubted she ever would, but what the shape-shifter said was true: The X-Men could benefit from important information about their enemies.  Of course, Rogue would run the risks of incurring the Brotherhood's wrath as well as making herself out to be some sort of turncoat to the X-Men, but she imagined her friends would understand if given time.  

Swallowing, Rogue steeled herself, looking Mystique right in the eye.  She knew she could be spelling her doom with her next words, but she wanted to help the X-Men, and this might just be the way to do it.  

"All right," she said.  "I'll join the Brotherhood."  

***********************************************************************

Why the headaches had suddenly flared back up, Jean didn't know, nor did she really care.  What did matter was forcing the pain back down and then returning her attention to the issue of her "newly discovered" family.  She knew she would have to come to a decision about Xavier and Moira sooner or later, and Jean preferred sooner.  Waiting would only worsen the matter, as she knew from experience.  

Gritting her teeth, Jean focused every ounce of her psychic powers into pushing back the pain.  For a moment, it felt like things were becoming better.  Jean could almost hear herself think again.  

But then the hurt returned, as strong as ever—and with a message.  

_It was him!_ __

When she heard the words shouting in her mind like the angry raging of a god, Jean couldn't withhold a scream.  She clamped her hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut, her back arched and her body rigid.  The pain abruptly plummeted, leaving Jean to crumple to the floor, her breath ragged.  She could still detect some minor headache, but otherwise felt relatively all right.  

_What was all that about?_ she wondered, looking around her room.  She paused when her eyes fell upon the door, hoping that no one had heard her scream.  When it became apparent that no one had, Jean collected herself as best she could and rose from her position on the bedroom floor.  The pain was at a tolerable level again, and she felt as though she might have a chance to unwind enough to go to sleep.  

Jean nodded to herself, deciding that getting some rest was indeed the best course of action.  As she began to turn to go to the bathroom and wash herself up, her eyes glanced at the crumpled photo of her and Xavier, the one Ororo had put back— 

Without warning, the pain shot violently through her mind.  Jean screamed again, almost unable to stand the pain.  It seemed as though her skull were _ripping itself apart!_

Her knees buckled, and she fell down, writhing in terrible agony on her bedroom floor.  Her eyes were squeezed so tight she couldn't even feel them anymore—not as though she could, of course.  The pain was so intense it would have been better if a white-hot poker had been pressed to her head.  That, and the words "It was him!" kept roaring in her mind, so loud it threatened to practically kill her.  

And then, as instantly as it had come, it was gone.  Jean was left as little more than a frightened animal, curled into a fetal position on the floor, her breath coming in quick gasps of air, as though she had just run many miles.  

_Why is this_ happening _to me?  It doesn't make any sense!  Every time I think it's gone, it gets worse.  But there has to be a more logical explanation than that.  There has got to be some kind of a catalyst, something that sets off my pain attacks.  I need to figure out what, or who, or— _

She froze, both in body and in mind.  She had just gotten her answer, and it was one that she had not expected at all.  

_The pain occurred when I looked at the Professor's picture!_ she realized.  It was the Professor whose image, perhaps his very presence, that was causing Jean to fill with agony.  _No, it's not the_ Professor _who's the catalyst: It's my_ father.  Jean desperately tried to figure out a plan, anything that might work.  _Staying here would mean seeing more of him, and that means more pain.  I can't take it the way it keeps getting worse; I might_ die _if I remain at the Institute_.  

As she realized there was only one course of action, she shivered.  Jean did not want to make her parents feel bad, or put them in a bad situation, but there was nothing else she could come up with that seemed a good idea.  

_I'm so sorry_.  

************************************************************************

Moira looked at Xavier, a curious expression on her face.  "Where are ye going now, Charles?" 

He stopped halfway to his study door.  "To see Jean.  However much effort it might take, I have to speak with her eventually, to get over this mess.  I don't want her to continuously think of me as a bad parent."  

Moira nodded.  "A donna think she'd want you as a bad parent.  Just be careful now, Charles Xavier; a girl is a terrible force to tangle with."  

Xavier nodded wordlessly and left the study.  As he rolled to Jean's room, he kept running through his mind what he should say to start what he wanted to be a productive conversation.  He doubted telling some god awful joke would work, so such a thing was immediately out of the question; discussing her life was not a smart move; saying he and Moira had reasons for what they did might cause Jean to become enraged; and asking if she were "all right" had to be the most fatal tactic of them all.  

No, he would have to go in there and simply admit he was not as good a man as he dreamed of being.  He would admit he was made up of nothing but flaws and fragile hopes.  Of course, this was all true: No one is perfect, and his dreams were not a reality certain to happen.  He could easily imagine how fervently she would agree with him once he began confessing his weaknesses.  

_Ah, here we are, at the mouth of the lion's den_, he thought, stopping as he reached her door.  There was no sound coming from within, which indicated she had stopped crying.  Whether or not she had cried herself to sleep was unknown, and he did not want to wake her, but he had to get on with this.  

Just as he was about to knock, though, a voice asked tentatively, "Professor Xavier?" 

Xavier realized he had completely forgotten to check for anyone else in the area, and turned to his left to see who it was.  Lance Alvers stood there, staring at the crippled man with an inquisitive expression.  

"Lance, I didn't see you there," Xavier said.  "Can I help you with something?" 

"Well, I was hoping to talk to Jean about why she's so upset, because Ororo said she was feeling really bad.  I mean, I'm practically her boyfriend now, so I kinda gotta do this.  Besides, I care."  

Xavier raised an eyebrow.  "Oh?  I thought Scott was Jean's romantic interest." 

Lance shook his head.  "Nah, she's done with him, at least for now.  And that's actually a good thing, 'cause I'm better in every way, including the good looks." 

Xavier smiled thinly.  "You'll have to excuse me for being stuck on the gravity of the situation, but I know far more about Jean's pain than you do, which makes me far more concerned about her well-being." 

Lance held up his hands.  "Yeah, okay, if you say so.  I just want to make sure she's all right, you know?" 

Xavier nodded.  "I'll tell her you're here."  Leaning forward, he knocked on the door.  "Jean, are you awake?"  When no response came, he knocked and called again.  After a second silence, he gently probed with his mind—and what he found shocked him.  

Opening the door, Xavier rolled into Jean's room, looking around frantically.  Jean was nowhere to be found, vanished from her room.  As Xavier looked about for his daughter, Lance entered and was equally surprised.  

"She's gone," he said in astonishment.  

"I know, and that is a very bad thing.  Go tell the others immediately, because this is a very grave matter.  We have to find Jean before something terrible happens to her."  

When Lance didn't move, Xavier stared at him.  "Lance?" 

"She left a note," the boy said, pointing to the bed.  

Xavier picked the slip of paper off the disheveled covers and read the words, horror flooding through him.  Lance's eyes caught sight, and the rock-tumbler instantly knew what they meant—or at least one possibility, the other one being much more tragic.  

Xavier found it hard to look away from the girl's neat handwriting, which had conveyed the message to him, a message he found terrifying: 

_"I'm so sorry." _

***********************************************************************

AUTHOR: Man, it's getting good, isn't it? 

READ N REVIEW! 


	13. Clash

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait, but I had to start some new fics! 

TO furygrrl: I'll try to explain the "mysterious aspects" of my fic in the rest of the story's chapters.  

TO Sandoz: "Consider them held"?  And you're right about the source of Jean's headaches, as I will reveal later.  And I really must thank you for your speculation of Rogue; it's given me an idea for the third story arc.  

TO Rogue: Poor nothing!  You wait until I get through with them! 

************************************************************************

Chapter 13: Clash 

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"Lance, go!" Xavier snapped, and the boy left the room, hurrying off to alert the other X-Men.  When he had gone, Xavier leaned forward in his wheelchair, head bowed.  Inwardly, his heart was crushed with anguish.  The Professor could hardly breathe, and did so in deep, steady breaths.  

Obviously, the question on his mind was, "Where had Jean gone?"  He knew the reason why she had run away, and he could hardly blame her for something he did.  But he had meant well, had acted with the best of intentions… 

_Best of intentions, hah!_ his own conscience mocked him.  _We_ all_ know what the road to Hell is paved with, Charles_.  _As Samuel Johnson once made clear, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."_  _Perhaps Magnus and I took the same course of action: We all but abandoned our children, our families, in order to escape punishment.  After all, I always suspected the man of never trying hard enough to help his daughter, and now it's obvious I tried even less to help mine.  Perhaps I should have just stayed in Scotland with Moira and raised a family like normal people do_.  

Xavier felt his self-resentment growing by the moment.  He had expected Jean to be deeply upset, and perhaps even rather angry, but he honestly had not thought the girl capable of running away.  

Taking a deep breath, Xavier tried to calm himself down.  Only a few hours ago, everything had been so perfect, with the exception of the troubles caused by the Brotherhood.  Then again, Xavier reasoned inwardly, it was only natural that there be an opposing team, one like the X-Men but fighting for different goals.  

_Rogue!_ Xavier thought suddenly.  _She has hopefully arrived home by now.  The others will no doubt be aware of her return, and things will only become worse if Rogue is still not back when I break the bad news_.  

Sighing, the Professor turned around and left the room, still holding onto the note Jean had left.  Part of him wanted to throw it away, because he didn't really need it to show the other mutants that Jean had run away, but another part of him wouldn't let go of such a significant piece of his daughter.  Such a thing seemed almost silly, but under the current circumstances, Xavier found it very hard to open his hand.  

_God, Moira's going to have my entire_ body _on a platter_, he thought grimly as he rolled toward his study.  Scanning, he found no one in the room save for his wife.  He was greatly relieved at this, because he was sure he could not possibly stand more than one upset adult.  Ororo would probably also be very hurt by this news.  

"Ye're back, Charles," Moira said.  "That didn't take too long, now did it?" 

Forcing the words out, Xavier said, "Moira, something terrible has happened." 

The woman twisted in her chair to face him.  "What?  What's happened, Charles?  Is it Jean again?" 

Xavier nodded.  "She's…Moira, she's run away." 

The Scotswoman looked as though she had just been slapped with a brick.  She stared in shock at Xavier, and after a long, loud silence, she managed to regain her voice.  

"Run away?" she echoed vaguely, her voice distant.  "But how, why?" 

Xavier shook his head as he held out the note.  "Lance and I only found this note.  It doesn't have much on it, though."  

Moira took the note and read it, her expression becoming even more shocked.  

"But Charles, she cannae last long out there!  She's just a child!  What if something happens to her?"  

Xavier looked away from her and into the crackling flames of the fireplace.  "Actually, I think we should be far more concerned if she is the aggressor." 

Moira blinked.  "Ock, A'd almost forgotten why A came here to begin with!  Remember how A told ye that something terrible was going to happen?"  When Xavier nodded, she continued, "Well, this could be it.  A first thought it would happen back on Muir Island, but then A realized it was here."  

"Let's just hope our son doesn't become involved in this," Xavier said darkly.  

"If'n he does, we're going to have loads of trouble stopping him from coming here and finding Jean.  Ye know how eager he is to meet her."  

"That, and his mutation makes him extremely powerful." 

The conversation hit a still point, with both adults staring at the fireplace as though mesmerized by it.  Xavier wondered if Moira would attack without warning; she did blame him for much of this, as she had made clear multiple times.  After all, if it wasn't for him, she would still have Jean and the boy might not be locked in a godforsaken cell out on some lonely and miserable island.  

"Charles?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can ye find Jean?  A know it won't be easy but…but we've got to, before our original problem starts to undo all our hard work."  

Xavier hesitated only a second before responding.  "I can find our daughter, and I will.  I swear I will have her back here before anything bad happens, Moira." 

"A dearly hope so, Charles, because A cannae stand the thought of Jean just…_exploding_.  If'n she does…"  

"She _won't_." 

After saying that, Xavier turned and left the study, mentally contacting Ororo and Logan.  The two were in the kitchen, grabbing a bite to eat, and complied with his request to meet in the common room.  His mind sweeping throughout the entire Institute, Xavier made sure the young mutants were gathered before he entered the common room himself.  

"More bad news, Professor Xavier?" Scott asked promptly.  

"Terrible news, Scott.  It hurts me greatly to say this to all of you, but Jean has run away from the Institute."  

He allowed a few moments for the shock to sink in.  Each face, save for Lance's, had a similar stunned expression.  No one exchanged glances, too busy staring at Xavier, as though doing such a thing would fix the whole mess.  As if to add to the stunned atmosphere, a second-long breeze tickled the back of Xavier's neck, though he chose to ignore it.  

"But…why?" Scott asked.  "It doesn't make sense for Jean to just run away."  

Xavier sighed, preparing himself to confess the truth yet again.  "Unfortunately, it makes perfect sense, X-Men.  You see, Moira came here for a specific reason, one that I regret to withhold from you, but it nevertheless involves Jean.  As you have already been made aware, Jean has suffered an emotional blow.  What you do not know is what _kind_ of blow it was.  

"I confessed to Jean that she is not the child of the Grey family, but the daughter of Moira and myself.  When we told her this, she went into denial and broke into tears, and then ran into her room, crying.  Moira spoke with her, but when I attempted to, I found that Jean had run away." 

Silence reigned once again in the Institute, the only sounds coming from the common room's fireplace.  Xavier looked at each person, quickly studying his or her expression.  Not one person present seemed any less shocked than the other, save for Logan and Ororo.  

"Professor?" Evan asked meekly.  "What are we going to do to find Jean?"  

"And what about Rogue?" Todd asked.  "Where's she at, yo?" 

Logan spoke for the Professor.  "Stripes is still at the Brotherhood's place, last I checked." 

"But when was that?" Scott asked.  

"About twenty minutes ago." 

"You don't think something happened to her, do you?" Ororo asked.  

"Hopefully, Rogue is perfectly fine," Xavier said.  "Now, I suggest we all get some sleep.  It is too late to be talking much longer, let alone taking action."  

One by one, the mutants went to their rooms.  Lance and Scott were the last to leave the common room, their bodies heavier than normal.  The rock-tumbler was worried about Jean, not only as a valued friend and teammate, but also as a girlfriend, since she _had_ paired up with him recently.  Scott's concern barely touched anything but Rogue, who was arguably far weaker than any of the other X-Men, since her powers relied solely on touching others.  

************************************************************************

Rogue twisted herself partially around in order to see the back of her costume.  It was still the one she donned whenever fighting alongside the X-Men, but now it was…different.  Or rather, _she_ was different.  She had just switched sides, joining the people she had sworn she never would.  

_But I don't get it_, she thought to herself.  _Everything Mystique says is true, but I feel like a real jerk for doing this.  I'm practically selling out my friends.  I can't do that!_  

Rogue looked again in the mirror, and realized she had already betrayed everything she had believed in and worked for.  By joining the Brotherhood, she had just branded herself a— 

"You're not a traitor, if that's what you're thinking," Mystique said.  She entered the room and stood behind Rogue, smiling at the girl's mirror image.  "This full-body mirror really shows off your beauty, Rogue.  Especially with this rather tempting outfit of yours."  

Rogue blinked and looked at Mystique's mirror eyes.  "Tempting?"  

The metamorph laughed.  "Rogue, don't tell me you have no idea what sex appeal is?  You shouldn't be ashamed to show your femininity.  It's what makes you who you are.  You wouldn't believe how far in life I've gotten on sexiness alone, Rogue." 

"And I suppose this is supposed to help me sell out my friends?" Rogue asked bitterly.  

Mystique turned Rogue around and gently fingered the girl's chin, lifting her head up until their eyes met.  

"Listen to me, Rogue, and listen very carefully: You are not, nor will ever be, selling out your friends.  Xavier has manipulated and used you for his own sick purposes, and all you are now doing is setting yourself free.  You are having the X-Men's blindfold removed so that you may glimpse the light of freedom.  Do you really want to further the agenda of a man who has never once truly helped you?" 

"Of course not," Rogue answered.  

"Then you should be happy that you've found me.  After all, I may not have given you life as I did Kurt, but you are still my daughter, and I simply cannot bear to see you separated from your real family." 

"The X-Men—" Rogue began, but was cut off.  

"Are not your family, Rogue.  They may accept you as such socially, but you will never truly be one of them.  Not even on a philosophical level." 

Rogue blinked again, and Mystique smirked, explaining before the girl asked the question that was just reaching her lips.  

"The X-Men are lost little lambs, Rogue.  They dream of a fantasy world that can never possibly exist, and refuse to acknowledge that there will always be hatred towards mutants, no matter what.  Xavier's dream is nothing more than a fairy tale that will be told in the future by us, in a future where mutants are safe from prejudice and in control of the world, as they should be." 

"But that seems so wrong!" Rogue said.  "I don't wanna help you take over the world!" 

"You won't be, Rogue!" Mystique assured her.  "All you are doing is helping those who don't yet see the truth.  Xavier has brainwashed all those poor young mutants into thinking they will be accepted by people who do nothing but hate and fear anything that differs from them.  Humans have a very long record of destroying that which they do not understand, and we are something they will never understand."  

Rogue bowed her head, feeling a little more than ashamed.  She wasn't sure why she felt the way she did, but being around Mystique made the Gothic mutant feel—well, at home.  _Maybe it's 'cause of the name_, Rogue thought.  _I mean, this_ is _the Brotherhood; people might feel like a family here.  The name certainly promotes the idea.  That, and my mother and brother are here, plus the girl who might be my sister-in-law_.  

Rogue nodded at Mystique's words, and the blue woman smiled.  

"There, Rogue, you're starting to learn your proper place after all." 

The girl looked up at Mystique and gave a small smile.  

"Mystique."  

Both females turned to the doorway at the sound of the new voice and found Bobby Drake standing there, his demeanor as frosty as ever.  

"What is it?" Mystique asked, and Rogue thought she sensed some venom in her tone; after all, the boy had just interrupted something like a mother-daughter moment.  

"Pietro is back with what you wanted," Bobby said.  

"Excellent."  Mystique turned her head and smiled at Rogue.  "Come along, child.  It's time you met your new teammate." 

As Mystique moved toward the door, Rogue replied, "Coming…Mama."  

The trio descended the stairs with Bobby in the lead, Mystique in the middle, and Rogue at the end.  On the inside, the girl felt rather comfortable, despite the dilapidated building she was in.  Even though they lived in a rundown old home, the Brotherhood didn't let it get to them, it would seem.  

Bobby led the two into the living room, standing off near the windows.  Rogue glanced out them and saw the gray, overcast sky that made rain a fairly good possibility.  She silently thanked herself for having the common sense to get some sleep after taking Mystique's offer to join the Brotherhood.  Even if her new room wasn't as sweet as it was at the Institute, it was still cozy enough to call home.  

Looking away from the windows and turning her thoughts to the current matter, Rogue saw the mass residing in the armchair that Mystique had sat in the night before—and gasped.  Unable to believe what her eyes were seeing, Rogue pushed past Mystique and went to the armchair, dropping to one knee and worriedly touching the mass's shoulder, turning its face to look at her.  

"_Jean?_" she said, her voice weak.  Rogue turned to Mystique, her eyes glinting fiercely.  "What'd you do to her?" 

"Nothing," the woman answered.  "All I did was have Pietro go and fetch her from the middle of the woods she had run off into."  

"What?" 

"Destiny told me that one of the X-Men would run away from the Institute and that it would be in the Brotherhood's best interests to pick the child up.  I ordered Quicksilver to do so, and here she is, wrapped in a warm blanket so that she won't freeze to death or anything."  

Rogue looked back at Jean, who was sleeping, though not serenely.  She had a look of discomfort on her face, as though she was having a bad dream.  

"Are you sure she's feeling all right?" Rogue asked.  "She doesn't look so hot." 

"She'll be perfectly fine," Mystique assured her daughter.  "_Especially_ after our little surprise." 

Rogue looked at Mystique, her curiosity piqued.  "Surprise?" 

"Don't think Jean won't be shocked that you've just joined the enemy, Rogue," the woman explained.  "Then again, so has she." 

"What are you talking about?  Jean wouldn't join you!" 

"I think you're wrong about that, Rogue.  You see, while you were sleeping, I was having a talk with young Miss Grey here.  She was very hurt that her parents were not really her parents, and that her true family was guilty of all but marooning her on some godforsaken island.  I spoke to her about how to set them straight, and she agreed to join our little band of mutants."  

"Why do I get the feeling that you manipulated Jean into signing on?" Rogue asked, her voice showing signs of barely restrained anger.  

"But I did not, Rogue," Mystique said.  "I never lie if I can help it."  

"That's, like, right," Kitty said, entering the room.  Rogue noticed the girl was wearing her Brotherhood costume.  "You should learn to trust Mystique." 

"Bobby, go get dressed for the battle," the shape-shifter ordered the boy, and he headed up the stairs to his room.  

"Battle?" Rogue asked.  

"Weren't you paying attention, dear?" Mystique asked sweetly.  "I said that Jean agreed to help us set her parents straight, and a fight against their own is something the X-Men need to realize that the Brotherhood is not something to be taken lightly." 

Rogue opened her mouth, but Pietro zipped into the room, decked out in his own costume.  

"Everything's ready, boss," he reported.  "The X-Geeks will find the note soon, and then we get to fighting." 

Mystique nodded, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.  "Good work, Quicksilver.  Now all we have to do is go to the battle site and await the enemy." 

"Hold it, Mystique," Rogue said.  "You don't actually expect Jean and I to fight our friends, do you?" 

Mystique sighed.  "Rogue honey, I have already had a conversation with you about your so-called friends.  Do you need reminding of just what kind of a monster your beloved Professor really is?"  

Rogue opened her mouth to retort, but words failed her.  She had no argument with that, no substance to use to prove her own points.  Mystique would crush her.  

Bowing her head, Rogue muttered, "No, Mama." 

"Good.  Now, I want you to wait a few moments before you wake Jean up so that she can get changed into her own costume." 

Rogue nodded.  

"What should we do?" Shadowcat asked, gesturing to Quicksilver.  

"I want you children to wait until we are all ready before heading out.  Iceman will be down any minute, along with Nightcrawler.  Once we're all assembled, I'll make contact with an interested party and then we shall leave to meet our opponents." 

Several long, silent minutes passed.  The only sounds were the occasional roll of thunder and Kitty and Kurt squeezing hands.  Bobby had taken to staring out the window, while Pietro was doing his best to make a coin walk across the backs of his fingers.  Mystique was sitting in a chair Pietro had whisked into the room, legs crossed and fingers interlaced, her eyes closed; Rogue was sure she was contemplating.  

When the Goth felt she had waited long enough, and judging from the increasingly disturbed look on Jean's face, she gently roused the girl.  

"Rogue?" Jean asked, looking puzzled.  

"Hi, Jean." 

"What are you doing here?"  Her eyes narrowed.  "My father didn't send you here, did he?" 

Rogue was confused.  "Your father?" 

"She means the Professor," Mystique explained without moving.  She kept her eyes closed.  "Quicksilver retrieved your costume from the Institute, Jean.  Go get changed so that we may teach your parents some manners." 

Nodding, Jean slid out of the armchair and shuffled upstairs, not returning for five whole minutes.  When she did, she looked in much better condition: Her hair was smoothed again in her usual style, and she seemed more energetic and awake.  

"Excellent," Mystique said.  "We're on time.  We'll leave once I've finished this one call." 

She stood up and left the room, and the young mutants could hear faint conversation.  Once finished, the blue woman returned to the room.  

"Time to leave." 

**********************************************************************

"Kinda gutsy, if you ask me," Logan said.  "We listen to them, we might walk right into a trap."  

"I know, Logan, but we have no virtually no choice."  Xavier sighed heavily and returned his gaze to the note Quicksilver had dropped off.  "Mystique is not one to trifle with, but I think it is painfully obvious that she has gone too far this time."  

"Well of course she has!" Moira snapped angrily.  "She's kidnapped our daughter!  What on Earth could possess that bloody madwoman to think she's going to get away with this?" 

"She will _not_ get away with this, Moira," Xavier insisted.  

"Charles, I know you are worried about Jean, but Rogue is still missing," Ororo reminded the Professor.  "Is it possible that Mystique kidnapped the both of them, and is using Rogue as a secret bargaining chip?" 

Xavier considered this for a moment, and then nodded.  

"What do we tell the kids, Chuck?" Logan asked.  "They need to know something." 

Xavier sighed, rubbing one temple.  "We will have to tell them the truth: That Mystique has, from the present evidence, kidnapped Jean and may be holding Rogue prisoner as well.  I can't begin to imagine their feelings once we tell them." 

"We must tell them something eventually," Ororo said.  "They have a right to know." 

"Want me to break the bad news, Chuck?" Logan offered.  

"No, no, I'll do it myself.  I want you and Ororo to wait until I have finished.  If no more notes arrive from the Brotherhood, then we will prepare the X-Men for battle."  

At the others' nods, he left.  The Professor telepathically summoned each X-Man to the common room.  He did not wish for them to hear even more bad news, but they had to know what was happening to their friends—their family.  

"Yo, what it is, Prof?" Todd asked.  "Something going down?" 

"I'm afraid that a very big something is about to go down, yes, Todd.  Not long ago, Quicksilver dropped off a sort of ransom note.  The Brotherhood is demanding a battle with us in exchange for Jean."  

Astonished faces were all around, and Xavier pushed onward.  

"Even though I would prefer to find another way out of this dilemma, Mystique has made it very clear that if a battle does not take place, she will lay siege to the Institute—not only with the Brotherhood, but also with some unnamed associates."  

The young mutants exchanged looks of total surprise for several moments, and then Scott spoke up.  

"Professor, do you think Mystique also has Rogue?" 

"I'm fairly certain she does, although I could be wrong." 

Scott nodded, and Fred decided to speak.  

"I think we should go." 

Scott looked at the large mutant, amazed.  "You do?" 

Fred nodded.  "That crazy woman's got our friends, and even though I never had any, my dad always taught me to do what's right, and that included sticking up for your buddies." 

After a brief silence, Lance said, "You realize you just said one big run-on sentence?" 

Smiling sheepishly, Fred nodded.  

"Regardless of what sort of sentence that was, Fred is right: We must do everything in our power to retrieve Jean and Rogue.  However, I can only ask you to come.  The decision is entirely yours." 

It took only two seconds of silence to elicit the same response from each X-Man: They wanted to go.  After changing, the mutants gathered in the hangar, almost ready to take off.  Professor Xavier spoke to them as they stood lined up outside the _Blackbird_.  

"Now, I will not deny that this mission is going to be very dangerous.  I would be surprised if we returned unscathed.  The Brotherhood is never to be taken lightly, and Mystique is more dangerous than the lot of them combined.  I want you all to realize that this may be one of the hardest fights you may ever participate in."  

"We understand, Professor," Cyclops said.  "We won't fail." 

"A hope to God ye won't," Moira said, approaching the mutants.  

Xavier rotated his chair to face her.  "I thought you would stay here, Moira." 

The woman shook her head.  "Not a chance, Charles.  That sod has me daughter, and A intend to get her back if A have to do it meself." 

Xavier's eyes widened.  

"There's no use stopping me, Charles.  A've made up me mind." 

Overcoming his surprise, Xavier said, "Very well, then, but I want you to remain in the _Blackbird_ at all times, Moira.  You are the only one here without any powers."  

"Chuck, it's getting close to the deadline!" Wolverine called from the cockpit of the _Blackbird_.  

"Everyone, onboard," Xavier ordered, and the mutants scampered up the ramp.  

*********************************************************************

"This is so a trap, man," Toad muttered as the X-Men surveyed the abandoned warehouses.  

"Maybe, but we have to at least try to find Jean and Rogue," Cyclops said.  "Start searching, and be extremely cautious.  The Brotherhood's probably set all kinds of traps around the place." 

"Can we work in pairs?" Toad asked hopefully.  "Like a buddy system or something?" 

"Toad, if you're scared, just stick to Blob," Avalanche said.  

"All right!" the green-clad mutant cried, doing a small victory dance.  

"Enough chitchat," Wolverine growled, "fan out and start hunting."  

"Make sure to report on your comm if you find anything," Storm reminded the others.  

"Let's go," Cyclops said.  

They branched out, searching carefully.  

************************************************************************

Cyclops searched the first warehouse he had seen when they were coming in.  He didn't exactly feel as if that was where Jean was, but she could be there.  

As the first floor was entirely visible, Cyclops moved up the steps to reach the second level.  He had not expected to find an opponent very fast, but that was what happened—literally.  

"You take forever, you know that?" Quicksilver smirked.  

"For a guy with normal speed, I'm not too bad," Cyclops replied.  "Where are my friends?" 

"Oooh, don't know what you're talking about," Quicksilver answered.  "But then again, I'd be more worried about myself."  

"Yeah, and why's that?"  As he spoke, Cyclops' hand went to his visor control, ready for action.  

"Because now that the boss's plan's in action, it won't be easy to stop."  

And then he rushed Cyclops, moving faster than the eye could follow.  He swiftly dodged the X-Man's optic blast and punched him in the gut, causing Cyclops to double over, gasping for air.  Quicksilver didn't allow his enemy that air as he slipped Cyclops into a wrestling hold, both arms going under those of the visor-sporting boy's and fingers interlocking behind the neck.  

"Oh come on, Summers.  I was expecting a challenge from you, the leader of the all-powerful X-Men.  Don't tell me you're going soft on me just because I've got a cute face." 

"Actually, it's because you act like a queer," Cyclops said through gritted teeth, breaking free of Quicksilver's hold and moving away a few paces.  "Now what'd you do with Rogue and Jean?" 

"You think I'd tell _you_?"  Quicksilver laughed.  "Get real, Summers.  Your little pals are gone." 

"_What?_" Cyclops demanded.  

"You heard me: They're gone and they won't be coming back anytime soon.  But don't worry, 'cause I'm going to make things all better."  

"I just bet you are."  

Quickly, Cyclops fired off multiple blasts, each one aimed at the speedster.  Quicksilver, though, was too fast, avoiding each crimson streak as if it were in slow motion.  

"What, you thought that might work if you tried it again?" Quicksilver asked, amused.  

Abruptly, he went rigid.  Cyclops watched, amazed, as his enemy's body shook slightly before crumpling to the walkway—and as it did so, it revealed Rogue, who had obviously snuck up on the boy.  

"Rogue!" Cyclops said.  "Where were you?  We've been looking everywhere!" 

Rogue calmly slipped a glove back on as she answered.  "Scott, I know y'all are gonna be pissed, but…" 

"What, Rogue?" 

The Goth sighed guiltily.  "Scott, I've joined the Brotherhood." 

For a moment, he was silent.  And then— 

"Are you out of your _mind_, Rogue?" he demanded.  

"Scott, listen, I can explain—!" 

"You don't _need_ to explain, Rogue!" he cut her off savagely.  "What, were we just not friendly enough for you, or did you and Mystique plan this from the beginning?" 

Rogue stared at Cyclops, shocked at the accusations.  

"Scott, honest, it's not like that!" 

"Then what _is_ it like, Rogue?  Is it that you've got some enormous, secret ego that makes you want to live up to your name?  Do you want to be such a 'rogue' that you'd sell out your friends?" 

"I'm not selling anyone out, all right?" Rogue snapped. 

"Then what about the letter you Brotherhood jerks sent the Professor?  You know, the one where you threaten all of us while holding Jean hostage?" 

**Slap! **

Rogue had had enough of Scott's harsh accusations.  He didn't move after being slapped, which gave her a chance to speak uninterrupted.  

"Scott, I told you that you'd be angry, but you have to trust me.  I'm not doing this to hurt anybody.  I joined the Brotherhood because Mystique told me that she's my _mother_."  

Scott recovered from the slap, staring at her in total disbelief.  "She's _what_?" 

Rogue sighed, sounding exasperated.  "I couldn't believe it myself, but what she said made me feel…I don't know, different.  I wanted to think she was lying, but on the inside I knew there was some truth to what she was telling me.  I can barely remember my childhood, Scott, so I can't just not believe her."  

Scott nodded, realizing that Rogue had a point.  "But wouldn't that make Nightcrawler your brother?" 

Rogue nodded.  "Yeah, but Mystique said she adopted me, so we're only related by law."  

"Thank God, huh?" Scott said, and the two laughed briefly.  

"Where are the other X-Men?" Rogue asked.  

"They're searching the other warehouses for you and Jean.  Come on, we've got to find and help them.  I really doubt Mystique's going to play with kid gloves."  

Rogue snorted.  "You got that right.  She told Iceman he could do just about anything he wanted to his opponents as long as they didn't die." 

Cyclops grimaced.  "That kid must really be messed up." 

Rogue nodded.  

"Well, come on!"  

They raced out of the warehouse, looking for the remaining members of the Brotherhood.  

************************************************************************

Avalanche leaned forward and peered into the warehouse, his eyes searching for anything suspicious.  Then again, if there was nothing around but lurking Brotherhood mutants, that in itself was suspicious enough for the rock-tumbler.  

_Wonder who I'll run into_, he thought.  _With my latest run of luck, it'll probably be Nightcrawler or Mystique, and those two will gripe about how I've tried to emotionally wound the little elf because Kitty went out with me for a little while.  Bunch of nuts_.  

Something hard collided with his back, and Avalanche fell forward, landing roughly on his stomach and rolling over, looking at his attacker. 

"You X-Geeks are, like, really pathetic at sneaking around, aren't you?" Shadowcat sneered.  

"Nice to see you too, sweetie," Avalanche returned as he stood up.  "Where're all your little buddies?  Hiding in fear?" 

Shadowcat laughed.  "No, they're busting your friends' chops."  

"Just like you're going to do to me, right?" 

"That's the general idea," Shadowcat smirked as she took a fighting stance.  

Assuming one himself, Avalanche retorted, "Well, personally, your idea is a little old to me."  

Snarling, Shadowcat lunged at him, her hand slicing through the air at his throat.  Ducking, Avalanche also lunged forward, tackling the girl to the ground.  As he raised a fist, she sunk below, vanishing into the dirt.  

"Damn it!" he cursed, looking around quickly for her.  

Shadowcat burst up and nailed Avalanche with a roundhouse to the jaw.  His head twisted around as though a corkscrew had been jammed into his skull, and he again hit the ground.  

Inwardly cursing himself, he sent tremors through the area, using as much force as he could.  Caught off-guard, Shadowcat stumbled and tripped, giving the X-Man the perfect chance to attack.  

Moving as fast as possible, he pinned her down and punched, his right cross taking most of the fight out of her.  The boy grinned, eager for another shot— 

And he took one himself.  

Avalanche had failed to watch out for the Brotherhood girl's elbow, which smashed into his crotch.  Gasping deeply, he stood as he backed up awkwardly, clutching himself.  

_You idiot!_ his conscience berated him.  _That's the one shot you should_ always _expect!_

The X-Man forced the pain to abate as he saw Shadowcat slowly get to her feet, coughing repeatedly to shake off the effect of his punch.  She shook her head a couple of times to clear away the pounding she felt, and then turned smoldering eyes upon her enemy.  

"I thought guys weren't allowed to hit ladies," she said.  

"Yeah, well, you're no lady; you're a psycho."  

Shadowcat spat on the ground and stood up, cracking her neck before fixing her gaze on him.  "Okay, now I'm really ticked." 

"Why don't you save it for Kurt?" 

Shadowcat's eyes blazed with rage at the snide remark.  She began stalking forward, but Avalanche sent another powerful tremor through the ground, and she slipped, her face hitting the ground with a smack.  

"Why you—!" she began, but was cut off when he used his powers again, turning the ground into a shivering patch of earth, causing the girl to fall on her butt.  

"Where are Jean and Rogue?" Avalanche demanded.  

"Around," Shadowcat replied elusively before diving forward.  She performed a smooth roll, her foot lashing out and hooking behind his own.  With a sharp jerk, the boy was on his butt.  

"Okay, that's it!" he growled.  

Focusing as hard as ever, he thrust out both palms.  The ground responded, lifting the girl off her feet as waves of earth rippled around the pair.  Shadowcat was sent smacking into the warehouse wall.  She slid to the ground, slumped over and inert.  

Taking several moments to catch his breath, Avalanche left to resume the search.  

***********************************************************************

"S-stay back now!" Blob cried out, backing up another few steps.  "I don't wanna have to hurt you!" 

"That's very comforting," Iceman said as he continued to approach, "because I want to hurt you."  

Blob glanced upward and to one side, where Toad and Nightcrawler were still rolling around the catwalk of the water tower, battling it out.  The two Brotherhood mutants had ambushed the two X-Men and the battle had moved outside from the warehouse they had been about to enter.  

"What's the matter, Blob?  Afraid?" Iceman jeered.  His usually frosty attitude was slowly turning into a sadistic one, which actually scared Blob.  That, plus he had turned himself into solid ice, even his clothes, which made for a rather spooky sight.  

"N-no!" Blob replied.  

Iceman fired a short blast at him, nearly freezing Blob's hand.  

"Why don't you actually try to fight me, Blob?  It has to happen." 

Again, Blob glanced at Toad.  The green-clad mutant was still wrestling with Nightcrawler, and wouldn't be able to help for several moments.  Blob was sure he could last at least _one_ moment against Iceman, even though the smaller boy's powers were much greater than his own.  

Up on the water tower, Toad and Nightcrawler were fighting like their lives depended on it.  Toad tightened his headlock on Nightcrawler, eliciting a grunt from the German mutant.  

"Had…enough…yet?" Toad managed to say, barely able to do so because it took everything he had to keep Nightcrawler from teleporting.  

Without warning, a cordlike thing wrapped itself around Toad's neck.  It jerked backwards, forcing him to release his enemy and grab onto it if he were to survive.  

"Like the tail, do you?" Nightcrawler asked.  "Well, have some more!" 

The prehensile appendage tightened its hold on Toad's throat, causing the boy to thrash about harshly.  But Nightcrawler wasn't about to let go, and continued holding on despite the danger.  

"Just give up and it will all be over, Toad," Nightcrawler offered.  "What do you say?" 

As if in response, a chunk of ice shot past his face, denting the metal water tower.  Surprised, Nightcrawler looked down to see Blob still fighting Iceman.  From what the German could see, Blob had gotten hold of some ice and used it to try and help his friend.  

"Hey, Mr. Discarded Blue Man," Toad's voice called.  

Returning his gaze to his own opponent, Nightcrawler caught a face full of slime.  Momentarily distracted, he released Toad, who immediately leapt upon him.  The two went over the walkway's railing and plummeted towards the ground below.  

Nightcrawler listened to his instincts and teleported, both he and Toad reappearing closer to the earth than they were when they vanished.  However, the distance was still high enough that when he hit the ground, Nightcrawler was knocked out.  

Steadily getting to his feet, Toad raised his hands victoriously.  "The winnah!" 

"Toad!" Blob yelled.  "A little help here!" 

Looking, Toad saw that Blob had advanced somewhat on Iceman.  The obese mutant was blocking the smaller boy's ice blasts, but his arms were becoming frozen in the process.  

Acting, Toad leapt at Iceman, his feet hammering into the other boy's ribs with a loud crack.  Iceman was knocked off his feet and to the ground.  For a moment, he stayed there…and then he got back up.  

Grinning broadly at the X-Men's shocked expressions, Iceman said, "When you're made of ice and something breaks, all you have to do is melt and refreeze it."  

"Oh, we're in trouble, baby," Toad gulped.  

But Blob attacked, thrusting out his immense gut and sending Iceman flying at a warehouse's cement wall.  

For a fraction of a second, the two X-Men had victorious smiles on their faces—and then Iceman hit the wall, shattering into thousands of pieces.  

All Toad and Blob could do was stare.  Their mouths were wide open, and each one could feel his eyeballs about to fall out of their sockets.  They had to swallow repeatedly before they were able to speak.  

"Did…did we just…?" 

"I don't know," Blob said.  "It was more like my fault.  I'm the one who hit him with my gut." 

"Yeah, but we were both here, so, so maybe we're both responsible?" 

Blob shrugged.  

"You think we should tell the Prof?" Toad asked.  

"I guess so.  I mean, we just killed a guy.  How can we _not_ tell him something?" 

Toad nodded, and was about to use his comm when Cyclops and Rogue appeared from around a corner.  

"You guys!" the field leader of the X-Men called.  "Are you okay?" 

"I don't really know, man," Toad answered.  "We handled Nightcrawler okay, but then…"  

Wordlessly, he pointed to the patch of ice fragments littering the ground.  Cyclops and Rogue looked at it, wondering what the two boys meant.  

"I don't get it," Cyclops said.  "Did Iceman do that?" 

"Shades, dude, that _was_ Iceman!" Toad said.  

Cyclops' eyes widened and Rogue gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth and staring at the Brotherhood boy's remains.  Rogue took a second to glance at Nightcrawler, who was sprawled on the ground not far away, out cold.  

"Listen, I know I may sound rude, but we have to move on and find the others," Cyclops said.  "Jean's still missing, and we still have Mystique and Shadowcat to deal with."  

Nodding, Blob and Toad followed alongside Rogue as Cyclops lead them off.  

**********************************************************************

"You're losing your touch, Logan," Mystique sneered as she blocked a swipe from him.  "I remember you being much better at this game."  

"This ain't no _game_, Mystique!" Wolverine snarled, slashing again.  He missed, and his claws sliced through a wooden crate.  "Where's Jean?  I can smell her on you!" 

"You sound almost concerned, Wolverine.  Could it be that you _love_ her?" Mystique asked, smiling.  

In response, Wolverine lunged for her, claws flashing.  The shape-shifter barely managed to avoid the killing tools as they effortlessly cut deep furrows in one of the cement pillars lining the warehouse's ground floor.  

Quickly moving out of striking distance, Mystique chided, "Temper, temper, Logan.  You don't want to do something stupid, do you?" 

"Come over here and let me show you stupid, Raven," he replied.  

Smirking, Mystique dashed forward.  Using her lightning reflexes, she slipped past Wolverine's claws and, keeping her forward momentum, jumped up onto the X-Man's back.  With the heel of one foot, she kicked him at the base of his skull and dove into a smooth shoulder roll.  

Wolverine lurched forward, more stunned than hurt by the attack.  His adamantium skeleton protected him from the brunt of the most assaults.  

Brandishing his claws, he growled, "Nice trick.  It won't work twice."  

Mystique smiled evilly as they circled each other.  "We shall see."  

Several minutes passed before something unexpected happened: The side door to the warehouse began rattling, threatening to be torn off its hinges.  

"What the heck?" Wolverine muttered, keeping one eye on his foe.  

Then, with a violent shriek of rending metal, the worn-down iron door jerked forward.  Its hinges were still attached, the bolts pulled right out of the concrete wall.  As the door hit the ground, both mutants saw what was beyond.  

Storm hovered a few feet off the ground, the wind causing her cape and hair to billow out regally.  She almost seemed an all-powerful goddess, one currently filled with a mighty fury.  

"Goodbye, Mystique," she said calmly.  

The winds, obeying her command, picked up.  They roared through the ground level of the warehouse, forcing Wolverine to dig his claws into the ground in order to keep from being blown away.  At the same time, the temperature dropped greatly, to the point where a light coating of frost spread over most of the area and the things therein.  

Mystique put forth every ounce of strength she had to approach Storm, but she was barely able to take a single step in the maelstrom.  Her lip curling, she gritted her teeth and lifted her foot from the ground, leaning forward— 

It was too much for her to resist.  Screaming defiantly, the blue metamorph was lifted up by the sheer force of the winds.  Twisting violently, she attempted to keep track of the X-Men, but failed to do so as she was thrown out through an upper-level window, landing in a garbage dumpster and collapsing into oblivion.  

Inside, Wolverine retracted his claws and stood up, a grateful smile on his face.  As he strode towards Storm, Spyke stepped into view from her left.  _He must have been hiding behind the wall_, Wolverine guessed.  

"Thanks, Storm," the feral X-Man said.  "She mighta taken me a bit longer if you hadn't shown up."  

Storm, though, didn't seem to register the comment.  "Did Mystique do something to the door, Wolverine?" 

He blinked.  "No, and neither did I."  

Storm narrowed her eyes.  "Then what happened to it?  I have an idea, but I do not see how _he_ could be here."  

"If he was around, Storm, and at that close, I probably woulda felt something in my bones."  

"Which means that someone else did that."  She looked Wolverine in the eyes.  "Do you think it could have been Jean?  She _is_ telekinetic, after all."  

Wolverine shook his head.  "I honestly don't know."  

Spyke chose that moment to speak up.  "Uh, guys, what're you talking about?" 

***********************************************************************

Avalanche was searching through another warehouse when he heard it: Sobbing.  

The X-Man was sure that it had to be either Jean or Rogue; Kitty was probably still out like a light, and she was not exactly the crying type.  

Moving as stealthily as possible, he ascended the stairs to the second level of the empty warehouse, all the while listening to the sounds of someone crying.  As he approached a door labeled "Manager's Office," he realized the sounds were coming from there.  

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Avalanche threw open the door—and started at what his eyes saw.  

Jean Grey, clad in her X-Men uniform, was leaning on her side against the rusting metal desk in the office.  Her face was contorted with pain and streaked with tears.  She was clutching at her temples, her teeth bared.  Swallowing the fear that was consuming his stomach, Avalanche went to her side, dropping to one knee.  

"Jean, what's wrong?" he asked, scanning her for any signs of injury.  

"I…I don't know!" she sobbed.  "It feels like my head's being turned into the newest Mount St. Helens."  

Lance blinked.  "What?  Why?" 

"I don't know!  I had headaches before, but they've been getting much worse lately.  Last night, I had a really bad one after you left for the movies.  Shortly after Professor Xavier told me the truth about my parents, I had one that almost killed me!  I don't know what's causing these things, but it's connected to my father somehow."  

"Jean, can you stand?" 

"No, it hurts too much…" 

"Listen, we need to get you to the Professor.  He's the only one I can think of who could do something.  Even if he is the cause of all this, he might be the only one who can stop it!" 

Jean forced herself to nod.  Lance took hold of one of her wrists, noting how much she was shaking.  Her muscles seemed to be spasming wildly.  Putting the arm around his shoulders, he put one of his own arms around her back to support her.  

"Come on, we need to get you some help," he said, and they began to hobble towards the office door.  

But just as they were halfway there, Jean's entire body spasmed uncontrollably.  She slipped from Lance's grip and hit the floor with a thud.  As he moved to help her back up, a telekinetic blow knocked him back into the wall behind the desk.  

Lance shook his head, trying to clear it of the stars it had filled with.  He then looked to Jean, who was on her hands and knees, shuddering terribly.  He could even make out her face dripping sweat.  A second later, he realized he too was sweating.  

_But it's not that hot in here_, Lance thought.  _Wait a minute—the temperature, it's rising!  But what's causing it?  This place has been shut down for_ years, _and even Iceman couldn't cause things to heat up like this_.  

He put aside these thoughts as Jean began coughing.  She appeared to be becoming very sick.  

"Jean!" he yelled.  "What's wrong?  What's happening?" 

Jean slowly turned her head to him, her face wracked with pain.  Abruptly, her eyes bulged and she opened her mouth— 

And barfed out a burst of flames.  

Lance was horrified.  The girl he loved was now, impossible as it seemed, spewing flames out of her mouth.  

Arching back, still on her knees and looking like she was striking a death pose, Jean opened her mouth again— 

And this time, a sea of fire erupted forth.  

_I'm going to die_, Lance thought as he brought his arms up in a feeble attempt to save himself.  

With speed unimaginable, the inferno engulfed the entire office, moving like a thing alive, like it had a _mind of its own_.  

Outside, the other X-Men halted in their tracks, the instincts telling them something was terribly wrong a fraction of a second before the warehouse Jean and Lance were in exploded.  A deafening crack split the air, shattering windows in the entire area and forcing the mutants to cover their ears, though that did little good.  

The X-Men caught a brief glimpse of the warehouse as it erupted into an enormous fireball.  But it didn't exactly blow up; instead, the flames seemed to devour the building without a bomb's blast effect.  

And then, as though it were an ancient god awakening from a centuries-long slumber, a giant form reared up from the flames covering the warehouse's roof.  

Towering perhaps a hundred or more feet over the tiny mutants was a monstrous bird of pure fire.  

Expanding its wings, the fire creature rose to its full height.  Opening its beak, it gave a shriek that caused any glass for miles around the shatter and explode.  Even the windows of the _Blackbird_ went white with cracks.  

All of this, from the bird rearing up to its cry, happened in a heartbeat.  A massive surge of power seemed to travel through the ground, cracking and shuddering it.  The X-Men were thrown to their feet, their minds screaming for answers to the obvious questions.  

In the copilot's seat of the _Blackbird_, Xavier watched what he could still see, his blood turned to ice.  

"God help us, it's happened…" he said, barely able to find the breath even for that.  

********************************************************************

AUTHOR: And now the real party starts! 

READ N REVIEW! 


	14. Evolved

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait, but I am still very busy! 

TO Foenixfyre: Even though I am not entirely sure what you mean, I don't pull many punches.  

TO felinefire82: I was just using imagery.  

TO furygrrl: Glad you liked the chapter, and the taunt will play a big part of the sequel.  

TO Sandoz: Oh, Jean will drop a bomb on everybody, believe me.  And as for Rogue…well, I'll let you guess.  It's more fun that way.  

************************************************************************

Chapter 14: Evolved 

/ 

/ 

/ 

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Cyclops had a pounding headache when he woke up.  He blinked several times and shook his head, and then coughed, trying to ignore the pain that was wracking his body.  He grimaced as he rolled onto his side, carefully pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.  There was a crackling sound in his ears, but he forced himself to ignore it; there were more important things at hand.  

After a couple of tries, he managed to say hoarsely, "Is everyone all right?" 

When there was no response, he looked to each side, and saw with horror that the other X-Men were downed as well: Rogue was curled into a ball, clutching a hip; Blob was wincing terribly as he cradled one arm; and Toad was moving as though he had just been beaten, with shaky, slow movements.  

Cyclops felt the bile rise inside of him.  He had no idea what was going on, but he had no doubts as to who was responsible: The Brotherhood.  Cyclops was sure that whatever had created that…that _flame-thing_ couldn't be anything good.   

"Scott…?" Rogue asked weakly, gaining his attention.  

"Rogue!" he said, and crawled over to her side, still sore.  "Rogue, are you okay?" 

"No," she said.  "I landed on my hip.  Feels like it's bruised."  

Cyclops nodded.  Quickly, he performed a cursory examination of Rogue, and when he determined that there was nothing seriously wrong with her, he looked to the other two X-Men.  

"Blob, Toad, how are you guys?" 

"I think I dislocated my shoulder," Blob said, nodding towards his arm.  

"Man, what was _that_?  We get bombed or something?" Toad asked.  

"I don't know," Cyclops admitted.  "I just—" 

"Scott!" Rogue yelled, and he twisted back to face her.  

She had an expression of pure terror on her face, and was pointing upwards.  Blinking, Scott followed her aim—and felt his heart sink into his bowels.  

_What in God's name_ is _that thing?_ he wondered, mouth agape.  

Toad and Blob also the mammoth firebird and froze.  Toad's eyes seemed like mirrors, so glazed with fear that they reflected perfectly the image of the flaming creature.  Cyclops now realized that _this_ was what was making the crackling sound in his ears—the firebird's flames.  How could he have allowed himself to forget such a thing was there?  He had seen it only a _moment_ before being knocked to the ground.  

Abruptly, the comm unit on Cyclops' costume crackled to life, with Storm's voice filtering into the air.  

"Cyclops, Toad, Blob, anyone—can you hear me?  This is Storm, please respond immediately!" 

Cyclops didn't take his eyes off of the firebird as he raised a hand and pressed it to his comm unit.  

"Storm, this is Cyclops." 

"Are you hurt?" Storm asked.  

"Yeah, but that's not important.  The giant firebird towering over us, though, _is_ important."  

On the other end, Storm, Wolverine, and Spyke were watching the firebird.  

When Storm had seen the firebird, its size easily dwarfing anything she had ever seen in her life, she suddenly felt very small and very weak.  She had seen wildfires on television, and a handful in real life—but _this_, this was something else entirely!  From what she could tell, the thing seemed to be a fierce yet beautiful bird made completely of fire.  

"Storm, what is that?" Wolverine asked, also staring at the firebird.  

"I wish I knew, Logan," she said softly.  "I wish I knew…" 

************************************************************************

Inside the _Blackbird_, Xavier and Moira stared with terror-backed shock at the enormous creature.  

_Oh my God_, the Professor thought.  _It's the Phoenix_…

Looking to Xavier, Moira said, "Do something, Charles!" 

Recovering, Xavier nodded and closed his eyes, hands moving up to his temples.  He reached out with his telepathic powers, contacting each member of the X-Men and the Brotherhood—save for Mystique, whom he could not find.  

X-Men, this is Professor X!  Listen to me: Despite whatever fears may be rooting you to your spots, it is absolutely imperative that you regain yourselves and subdue that creature!  Do you understand me?  Attack that firebird! 

He could feel shock, protest and, in the Brotherhood's case, outrage, but he had to put his foot down.  

_Professor, is that wise?_ Cyclops asked.  _We don't know anything about this firebird_.  

_Yeah, man!_ Spyke agreed.  _And that thing's a_ hundred feet tall!  

Xavier's tone was final.  _Everyone, I know you do not want to believe me, but striking immediately is the only real chance we have!  This firebird has only just come into its powers, and we have a very narrow window of opportunity here!  That firebird could spell destruction for everyone and everything on this planet if we do not stop it!_  

The surprise of everyone he was contacting was incredible.  Not one of them really wanted to believe this, but on the other hand, would humans believe the things mutants could do without proof?  Xavier didn't want to ever let destruction happen to show that it was possible—especially at the hands of a creature such as the firebird.  

_We will do as you say, Professor_, Storm told the man.  _Let us know what to do_.  

Relieved, Xavier swiftly began instruction the mutants.  

_Our enemy's power is primarily psychic.  If you close your minds as I have taught you, and attack relentlessly, we may stand a chance of capturing this firebird with little injury to ourselves_.  

Outside, Cyclops took charge.  

"Okay, people, let's move—"  

But Shadowcat and Quicksilver, who had come over, had other ideas.  

"You can move, Cyclops, but don't expect us to," the speedster said.  

"That's right," Shadowcat agreed.  "We're finding Iceman and Mystique and then we're leaving."  

"What?" Cyclops said.  "Didn't you hear the Professor?  That thing could kill us all!" 

Quicksilver looked up at the firebird.  The creature simply stayed there, towering over everything around it but ultimately doing nothing.  It seemed as if the thing preferred to _lord_ over the world rather than destroy it.  

Smirking, Quicksilver said, "I heard, but that flying matchstick isn't doing anything expect posing for a picture.  Seems like it doesn't even _notice_ us!" 

There was a gust of wind as Storm floated down.  The X-Men breathed a relieved sigh, while the Brotherhood scowled.  

"Be that as it may, Quicksilver, the Professor wants us to subdue that firebird.  If he says he has a good reason, then I have no cause to disbelieve him," she said.  

Cyclops opened his mouth, but Spyke and Wolverine appeared from around a warehouse corner, coming over.  

"Anybody see Avalanche?" Spyke asked.  "We can't find him."  

Shadowcat smirked evilly as she said, "I saw him.  In fact, I handed him his head."  

Spyke blinked, and then glared at her.  "You wanna tell us where he is?" 

Cyclops noticed the boy was starting to grow bone shards, and he quickly intervened.  

"Hey, we don't need to fight amongst ourselves!  We have to find Jean and Avalanche now, and fighting will only slow us down."  

"Cyclops is right," Storm nodded.  She turned to the Brotherhood.  "Will you help us?" 

"Why should we?" Quicksilver asked.  

_Because, Pietro Maximoff, you and your fellows helped put us in the very dire situation we are in_, Xavier's voice replied.  

Wearing a very ugly expression, Quicksilver said, "Fine, but don't expect much from us."  

Cyclops nodded.  "All right, people, he's the plan…" 

***********************************************************************

**Life.**   ****

Lance blinked, feeling utterly disoriented.  The last thing he remembered was Jean throwing up a ton of flames, which went right for him.  By all rights, he should have been roasted alive.  Incredibly, though, he was still around.  

_Or am I?_ he wondered.  _Did the inferno kill me?  Did it burn me to the point of insanity?  Am I delirious?  Is any of this real?_  

Lance looked around, taking in the reddish-orange glow of the realm in which he floated.  There were no rooms, no places to stand or sit; there was simply Lance floating in a strange realm.  He was still wearing his X-Man uniform, and he supposed that could mean he was still alive—after all, if he had died, wouldn't he be wearing his regular clothes?  

**Life is existence.  Without existence, there is no life.**  

Again, Lance heard the voice that had roused him.  It didn't seem to be talking to him; rather, it was as if the speaker to talking to himself or herself.  Lance blinked, more than a little puzzled.  

Looking around again, Lance was surprised to see Jean nearby, also floating.  She had her back to him, but he could see that she still wore her uniform and, from the slight movements of her jaw, that she was the speaker.  

_But how do I get closer?  I don't exactly go floating in the middle of nowhere every other day._  _Maybe if I_ think _myself closer_… 

And suddenly he moved forward—not much, only a few feet, but enough to make him realize that thinking was the key.  Focusing, Lance began floating towards Jean, not taking his eyes off her.  She didn't turn around to greet him, or give any sign to indicate she noticed his presence, but that wasn't important.  

Speaking again, Jean said, **Existence was denied me.  Life was denied me.  I was denied the right to exist, to live, by an inferior being.**  **Now, though, I am existent.  I am alive.**  

Hearing her voice grow stronger, Lance knew it was only a matter of moments before she went in a rage.  He also knew he was the only one who presently stood any chance of getting the redhead back to her senses.  Moving a little faster, Lance closed the space between them until they were within reach of one another.  

"Jean?" he asked.  

She ignored him.  **I will no longer be yours to command, Charles Xavier.  My life is not yours, and thus is not yours to control.**  

"Jean, snap out of it!" Lance said, grabbing her shoulder.  

Bad move.  

Jean rounded on him, but in a regal manner that put Storm to shame.  Her thick mane of red hair framed her face, which seemed almost silhouetted by the new eyes she had.  Lance felt of shiver of terror from head to toe as he stared into the infinite depths of Jean's new eyes.  

Eyes that glowed a golden yellow, like the sun did.  They seemed to radiate power, and an unearthly one at that… 

"Jean, just calm down," Lance said, trying to keep his own cool.  Man, was it scary to face her while she was like that!  

**You _dare?_** she said, her angry tone growing angrier.  **You dare to touch—to _order_—a greater being than yourself?**  

Lance gulped as she narrowed her eyes, knowing that he was in major trouble here.  

**You dare to lay hand on me as though I were your child, when you, Lance Alvers, are** **_no one's_** **parent?** Jean demanded.  

Without warning, the realm morphed, changing into a brand new landscape.  Everything went from reddish-orange to flames, reminding Lance of the inferno that he thought might have killed him.  The entire realm was flame, every square millimeter of it.  

Abruptly, Lance fell onto his butt, surprised there was no a floor.  He briefly glanced down, but he couldn't tell if what he was sitting on was also made of flames or not.  He saw that Jean was still floating, still looking regal—and regally pissed.  

The telepath slowly began advancing on him, and Lance found himself backing away in fear.  

**Foolish X-Man.  I am not some mutant to play with.  I am not some paltry shape-shifter with a childish agenda.**  Her eyes bore into his soul, and Lance realized he was truly and thoroughly terrified, something her next words cemented.  **I am a great and terrible force beyond the imagination of the human mind.  I am a god, little Avalanche—_and to those who do not worship me, I am an angry god!_**  

An invisible force took hold of Lance, and he fought with all his might as he was dragged down into the flames… 

**********************************************************************

"Brilliant plan, Summers," Quicksilver said.  "I'm sure we never would have thought of something so utterly incredible."  

"You don't like it, you can go to H—" Cyclops began, but was cut off by a frightened Rogue.  

"Everybody, look!" she yelled, pointing towards the giant firebird.  

With a thrill of horror, Cyclops and the other mutants watched as the firebird expanded its wings and then hunched over quickly, expelling slivers of flame.  The slivers shot everywhere, with a fair number coming at the gathered heroes and villains.  

"Scatter!" Cyclops ordered, and the two teams dispersed.  

To the mutants' surprise, the slivers dissipated as they rained down, doing little harm—save for one large burst of flame, which reminded Cyclops of a meteor falling to Earth.  

"That's not a flame burst," Wolverine said.  "That's Avalanche!  He's inside it!" 

"I'll slow him down, you catch him, Wolverine," Storm said as she took to the air.  

Rising up, the wind-rider focused her thoughts.  She summoned strong winds, which decreased Lance's speed, and the light rain she created put out the flames that were wrapped around his body.  

"I got him!" Wolverine said a moment before Lance collided with him, both mutants falling to the ground in a heap.  

Grunting, the feral X-Man separated himself from Lance and checked the boy over.  There seemed to be little wrong with him, save for the fact that he was unconscious.  

"Is he okay?" Blob asked.  

"Yeah, but he might be sore when he wakes up.  Hitting me hurts."  

"Just like that thing will, yo!" Toad cried.  

Heads turned back to the firebird, which was again moving.  It snapped back into an upright position—and as it did so, the flames that covered the warehouse it was perched upon flowed up into its body.  As the X-Men and Brotherhood watched, transfixed with shock, the flames merged and the firebird's size increased.  By now, it had to be over a hundred feet tall.  

Inside the _Blackbird_, Xavier and Moira also watched.  The Professor felt his heart beat harder and faster, and he was sure he would hyperventilate if he did not calm down quickly.  

_God, no, it's getting_ stronger! he realized.  Reaching out with his telepathy, he spoke with the X-Men and Brotherhood.  _X-Men, Brotherhood, you must attack_ now!  _If you hesitate another moment, that firebird will have more power than you want to imagine!_

_Get out_, Quicksilver replied disbelievingly.  

_I will not 'Get out,' Pietro Maximoff_, Xavier snapped angrily.  _Now do as I say! That firebird's powers are increasing at an exponential rate.  If you don't do something this instant, it will have the unbridled might of a_ god!  

"You heard him, kids," Cyclops said.  "We go now.  Storm, make some rain to distract the thing.  Everybody else is with me."  

Storm flew up and called upon the clouds again, creating a localized rainstorm.  The other X-Men, Cyclops in the lead, charged the firebird.  

Opening his visor to its fullest, Cyclops loosed a blast directly into the firebird's chest.  

Quicksilver ran circles around the creature so fast that it created a miniature tornado, which caused Storm's rain to spin around the firebird.  

Rogue tapped Cyclops and used his powers as best she could.  

Blob used his good arm to throw a chunk of concrete at the target.  

All of this, though, proved ultimately useless as the firebird responded.  

Giving a second ear-piercing shriek, the firebird expanded its wings again, blowing both Quicksilver and Storm away as well as nullifying their assaults.  

And then it unleashed an attack that redefined the term "heat vision."  

Shafts of pure flame streaked out from the firebird's eyes and raced at the mutants.  Deafening explosions filled the air as the firebird's attack impacted the ground, creating large, blackened craters and rocking the area.  

Knocked off their feet, the mutants looked up at the firebird, expecting it to finish them off with a final blast of power.  

But it didn't attack again.  

A long, tense moment passed as everyone's eyes watched the firebird.  It was, apparently, brooding.  Its wings were drawn in, and the way it was hunched over reminded Xavier of the Devil in the "Night On Bald Mountain" part of Disney's _Fantasia_.  

And then it spoke, directly into the mutants' minds via telepathy.  

**I am not amused by this, X-Men and Brotherhood**, the firebird told them.  **You are outmatched by a superior being, and I will not allow myself to be defeated by the likes of you slaves.**  

Spyke blinked, clearly confused.  " 'Slaves'?  What's that thing talking about?" 

The firebird either didn't hear him or ignored him.  **Foolish mutants**.  Abruptly expanding its wings again, the firebird cried out its next words in a booming voice that forced the mutants to cover their ears.  **I am Fire!  And Life incarnate!**  

In the _Blackbird_, Xavier was struggling as much as possible against the tremendous telepathic might of the Phoenix.  

But it was too much.  He lost contact with the X-Men and the Brotherhood, and even Moira.  All he could sense was the inferno of Phoenix's rage… 

***********************************************************************

In New York City, New York, a young girl was in dismal spirits.  She was sitting in the dining room of a private club for…"select" individuals, people like herself, and though she was with family, she was anything but happy.  

To her right, sitting at the head of the table, was the girl's father.  She wore clothes that were nothing but white: A jacket with a white, fluffy interior, along with white "panties and bra," and white boots with white stockings.  Her father wore a dark-colored business suit, which reflected his brooding demeanor.  

"You haven't touched your food," he said, not looking at her.  

"I don't feel like eating."  

"You don't want to go hungry later, do you?" 

"Doesn't matter." 

The man, Sebastian Shaw, turned a stern gaze on his daughter.  "Emma, you know you don't want to go hungry." 

"Maybe I do."  

Shaw frowned.  He knew his defiant little girl was saying such things just to annoy him.  He could almost feel her telepathy working.  Of course, she almost always had her power working.  She would manipulate everyone within her range and screw with their minds, just as she had done to her sister, Tessa.  

Shaw's mood changed slightly, from brooding to pensive.  Tessa had also been a telepath, but she paled in comparison to Emma.  Shaw had always wondered if Emma's constant use of her powers stemmed from the fact that she inwardly resented her father.  Emma almost never allowed herself to be called by her birth name, Emma Shaw, preferring to call herself Emma Frost, using her mother's maiden name.  Tessa had always acknowledged her name as Shaw, so Emma could easily have played the Name Game to spite her family.  

_Then again, she holds me responsible for her mother's death_, Shaw thought darkly.  Emma despised her sister and hated her father ever since her mother had died giving birth to baby Tessa.  

_Thinking about murder again, are we?_ Emma's voice asked sweetly.  

Shaw gave her a severe frown.  "Talk with your mouth, Emma."  

"Or what?" Emma asked, leaning forward and giving him half-lidded eyes.  "You'll spank me?" 

Shaw didn't even look away from his meal as his left hand slapped her, the back of his hand hitting her cheek with an audible smack.  Emma stayed frozen in surprise for a moment, and then slid back into her chair and fixed her eyes on her food.  She had only been struck a few times, but it always put her back in her place.  

"Why can't you simply remember to watch that mouth of yours?" Shaw asked as he resumed eating.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Emma had gone silent.  She was cocking her head to one side, as though listening to a particular sound.  It wasn't until she started twitching that actually looked at her.  

"Is something wrong?" 

"I…I don't know," she said.  "It's like something's trying to drill its way into my mind."  

Shaw raised an eyebrow.  "Another telepath?" 

Her face contorted as she concentrated on blocking the "drill" out, Emma managed to say, "If it is, it's a hell of a lot stronger than I am."  

Abruptly, she began jerking about wildly.  At first, Shaw thought she was suffering from some sort of epileptic seizure—after all, what else could Emma be suffering from?  But then he remembered that she said something was attempting to gain entrance to her mind.  Could that same thing be responsible for her seizures?  

Grabbing hold of his daughter, Shaw pinned her to the floor.  

"Emma!" he said.  "What's happening?"  

When she spoke, her voice was weak, cracking with what sounded like fear-laced awe.  

"Fire," she whispered.  "So much fire…so much _rage_… _So much power_…"  

Shaw blinked, wondering what in the world she could be babbling about.  

In her own mind, seen only by Emma, a monstrous firebird loomed over her, sending fear coursing through every vein in her body.  

And what scared her the most were the eyes—those blazing yellow eyes, so full of rage and power… 

************************************************************************

Much farther away, in Japan, a young woman was spending a relaxing moment.  Elisabeth "Betsy" Braddock was reclining on her couch.  Though Betsy had been brought up in England, she was on Japanese descent, adopted by the Braddock family.  

Betsy wasn't thinking about her family, though, as she lazily paged through a copy of _Time_ as the minutes passed.  She had brought the magazine over with her to Japan because, though her appearance was Japanese, she could barely understand the language itself.  

Why does it take so long for Dad to wrap up a deal with those corporate people? Betsy wondered.  Betsy knew her father was meeting with some Japanese corporation, the head of which was named Matsu'o Tsurayaba.  Betsy herself had never met the man, nor did she want to.  No, all she wanted to do was sit back, relax, and enjoy her magazine.  

And then it hit her.  

Betsy and her family knew she could read other people's minds, that she was a telepath.  Her father had heard quiet rumors of "mutants" from various parts of the world.  Betsy was fairly certain that, with her "powers," she was a mutant.  

Because she was a telepath, it was all too easy for her to hear the bird's shriek—it sounded horrible, so loud that Betsy thought someone had jammed a police siren in her ear or something.  

The purple-haired, twenty-year-old girl gave a gasp of agony as she rolled off the couch, landing on the hardwood floor of the lavish hotel's room.  She clutched her head and attempted to stand up, but for some reason, her body seemed almost immovable.  

_It has to be this pain!_ she realized.  Though she had suffered when she first came into her powers, she had quickly learned to block people's thoughts from entering her mind.  However, this psychic assault was something else entirely: It was like having a power drill jammed into your cranium.  No matter what Betsy did, the deafening roar of the bird and the blazing flames filled her thoughts.  

_What…is this?_ Betsy wondered.  _How can something so vivid happen to me?  I'm not that weak.  I've kept people from filtering through my mind on large scales, but this—this is too powerful!  It's like this firebird is a_ god _or something!_

Alone, no one heard Betsy gasp and spasm continuously under the power of the Phoenix's psychic cry.  

************************************************************************

Back in Bayville, the Phoenix watched the X-Men.  Even though her telepathic signal was reaching out to every telepath on the planet, she was more concerned with her father's lackeys at the moment.  

And then, for some reason, her mind became very concerned for Lance Alvers.  Phoenix was momentarily startled by this, and then gave a mental frown.  It had to be her more human side, Jean MacTaggert.  Phoenix knew Jean and she were the same person, the same _goddess_—but for some reason, she was feeling regret at hurting her friends, her family.  

Phoenix's frown increased.  She didn't understand why she wasn't fully converted.  There was absolutely no difference between her and Jean.  

**But then why have I not dispensed with the insignificant mutants?** Phoenix wondered to herself.  **Jean and I are one and the same—could it be that I am feeling some shame at harming those who only wish me well?  It _is_ logical.  But if that is so, I must find a way to dole out justice upon my father for what he did to me.**  

Upon thinking this, Phoenix's anger rose dangerously.  **He imprisoned me within myself, locking me away and forcing me to live a lie!  Instead of becoming my true self, I was forced into believing I was a simple mutant girl named Jean Grey!**  

Summoning up her incalculable might, Phoenix arose from the abandoned warehouse district, a streak of flame flashing through the sky.  

**He will pay! **

**********************************************************************

On the ground, Avalanche slowly came around.  His head ached horribly as he cautiously sat up, groaning loudly.  Even though he had squeezed his eyes shut to help deal with the pain, he could tell that something was very wrong.  

_I need to help the others_, he thought, but then lay back down.  He seemed to have no energy at all.  _But I have to do something!  Jean's in really bad shape, and I have to get her to the Institute immediately!_  

And then he heard it: A female voice, calling to him from above.  

Lance, who had almost fallen asleep as he thought of helping the others, opened his eyes to a spectacle like no other.  

Hovering over him, as though a strange reflection, was a golden specter that looked exactly like Jean.  Her entire person seemed to be made of a golden mist, giving her an ethereal look that Lance could never have imagined.  The rock-tumbler was sure that this "Jean" was an angel.  

"Lance," she called longingly, and reached for him with one arm.  

His heart feeling strong as ever, Lance weakly raised an arm to touch her.  She was so close, and the closer their fingers came to touching, the happier she looked.  Lance felt himself smiling, already imagining how good things were going to be, his thoughts gaining strength as he saw the warmth in Jean's expression— 

And then, without warning, it ended.  

The golden Jean vanished, like a light being pulled back to its source.  Lance watched, horrified, as his angel was spirited away on a flaming streak.  When he could no longer see the streak, Lance's fear gave way to anguish.  

He had again failed to help the girl he loved.  

"Lance?" someone asked, and the rock-tumbler opened his eyes to see Spyke standing over him.  The boy was clutching one arm just below the shoulder, making Lance wonder if he had been hurt.  "Lance, are you okay, man?" 

Closing his eyes, Lance let out a heavy yet quiet, "No."  

"The Professor wants us back at the Institute.  He says we need to heal up for our next encounter with…with whatever that thing was."  

Lance nodded, wishing he were dead.  

************************************************************************

Muir Island was a place few could call home: Rain was almost daily, even for an hour or so; the wind was chilled and bitter; the temperature usually dropped to minus ten at the cold season; and to top it all off, the average day lasted approximately five hours.  

Despite this, a group of people lived in a research facility funded by a philanthropist, one Charles Francis Xavier.  The Muir Island facility was the part-time home of several "special" people and one "very special" young man.  

And at that moment, the aforementioned young man was raising the greatest ruckus of his life.  

"David, for God's sakes, lad, ye need to calm yuirself!" a man, Sean Cassidy, told the boy through an intercom.  

But as Sean watched the monitor screen, David only fought against his restraints harder.  No, actually, the restraints were more like barriers keeping him in.  As David's eyes began glowing green, Sean felt his hairs stand on end.  

"David, donna ye understand, lad?  Ye cannae—" 

"She's calling me!" David screamed.  "She's calling me!  A have to help her!  She needs me!"  

Sean blinked.  _"She's calling me"?  What canna he mean by---ock, Cassidy, ye fool!  It must be the lad's sister!  The lass has finally been set free!_  

Acting immediately, Sean hit a button on the command console, and a potent knockout gas flooded David's chamber, putting him out.  

Sean, though, was hardly happy.  

May God help us all… 

***********************************************************************

The ride back was very similar to the one the mutants had taken to the abandoned warehouse district.  The only differences were that they had regained one member and truly lost another.  

Storm piloted the _Blackbird_, which was possessed of such a subdued atmosphere that everyone onboard might as well have been dead.  Xavier was in the copilot's seat, head bowed and fingers stapled, eyes closed.  He said nothing, apparently in the deepest of thought.  Wolverine sat behind Storm, looking sour as ever.  Moira was seated behind Xavier, her expression clearly one of great distress.  Then again, she _had_ just lost her daughter.  

The other mutants had varying attitudes, if you could decipher their faces. 

Scott looked extremely angry, but seemed to have it bottled up.  Fred looked rather putout by the events of late, as did Todd.  Evan appeared to be thinking something, though it was impossible to tell without reading his mind.  Rogue was trying to sleep a little.  

Last was Lance.  The rock-tumbler sat in his chair as though he were a mannequin, not moving, hardly even breathing.  His eyes were empty and almost totally lifeless.  The only signs of life were his thoughts, and none of them were very pleasant.  He endlessly replayed the "last moments" of Jean in his mind: Seeing her spew flames, seeing her swore revenge on her father, and seeing what might have been her astral form vanish.  

When the _Blackbird_ landed in the hangar, Xavier was the first to exit.  He quickly rolled towards the lift, apparently in a hurry to reach his study.  

Scott, however, was more eager for answers.  

Storming into Xavier's path, the field leader of the X-Men halted the Professor's progress cold.  

"Scott, please, I need to—" 

The boy savagely cut him off.  "You need to give us some answers! You've been hiding everything from us, and we nearly got _killed_ out there because of _you!_  I'm tired of being kept in the dark because you're too afraid to admit the truth to us!"  

"It's not like that, Scott, you have no idea—"  

"No, _you_ have no idea!" Scott snarled.  "I just lost someone I care very much for, and you're running away from responsibility!  You owe it to us to tell us the truth!  We almost died out there because we were spoon-fed bull about Jean!  I for one demand some answers!"  

A long, thick silence followed the young man's words, and Professor X bowed his head.  When he looked up at Scott again, he spoke in a calm tone.  

"Very well.  Once everyone has cleaned themselves up, I will meet you all in the common room.  Until then, I must be alone.  Excuse me."  

Xavier moved around Scott and was first to exit the hangar, slowly followed by everyone else.  Rogue was last, standing at the exit door, but not moving for a moment.  If anyone eyed her closely, they would say she was trembling slightly.  

"Rogue?" Evan asked, returning to the hangar entrance.  "You coming?" 

When she looked up, he thought he saw a dark, burning look in her eyes, but it was gone when she responded.  

"Yeah."  

The two of them left the hangar, each heading to their rooms to undress and take a bath or shower.  

***********************************************************************

An hour later, the Institute's residents convened in the common room, looking somber.  Nobody spoke until everyone was seated, and Xavier was the first to utter a word.  It was astonishing he could, given that he seemed half-dead with misery at what had happened.  

"I know you all have your questions," he said.  "I will do everything I can to answer them, but some of them I simply cannot give answers to, either because I do not know the answer or because the answer is something I am very sure you cannot fully comprehend.  You can begin asking now."  

"What was that thing?" Scott demanded.  "I know it's some sort of firebird, but I want to know what you know."  

Xavier hesitated before responding.  "That firebird is a kind of entity.  It both is and is _not_ Jean, and prefers to be called Phoenix."  

"What do you mean it's not Jean?" Todd asked, confused.  "Either it is or it ain't, right?" 

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Xavier said.  

"Then why don't you start from the beginning?" Fred asked.  

"Yeah," Evan agreed.  "That's usually the best place to begin."  

Xavier sighed heavily and again hesitated before speaking.  "In order to understand the Phoenix and who she is, you must understand that I may seem confusing at times, but am actually making perfect sense."  

"We understand," Scott said.  

Xavier nodded.  "When Moira first became pregnant with our children, I was ecstatic.  I know you may all be wondering how she became so, but I assure you that it was not through intercourse with a crippled man; though we tried to control ourselves, we ended up having premarital sex.  

"As the months went on, I gently began probing the minds of the developing fetuses, and made an incredible discovery: They were quite aware.  At first, I thought I had to be mistaken, but further investigation revealed that Jean and her siblings were mentally maturing far faster than any child I had ever known of—and, quite possibly, faster than any child in the world at any point in time.  

"I told Moira this, and she seemed thrilled at first; her children were advancing far beyond the human norm.  Why shouldn't she have been happy?  I found myself asking a similar question: Why shouldn't _I_ be happy?  My children were virtually self-aware, which meant they had to be mutants, and would make extraordinary people one day.  

"But then I continued with my probing.  And what I found shocked me: Jean was rapidly becoming the greatest of our children, her mind so full of power and potential power that she actually frightened me.  I was extremely fortunate that she was inclined to have telepathic meetings with me.  During such meetings, Jean and I would use our imaginations to create entire worlds.  You should have seen what she could do.  

"But then it began to change.  I realized during one meeting that Jean was not Jean.  In that particular meeting, I was terrified out of my wits by my own daughter.  Through her actions and words, she unwittingly made clear to me that Jean MacTaggert was just a name, that the person who bore the name was infinitely more significant.  

"I learned at that time that Jean MacTaggert was just name of the seed, while the flower's name was Phoenix.  Even then, only a developing fetus, Phoenix began manifesting her powers.  Her mental strength was virtually without equal, even though she was an untrained novice.  I spoke with Moira, and she reluctantly agreed to allow me to alter Phoenix's mind, taping over it a more…_normal_ personality."  

Xavier paused here, and took a deep breath before continuing.  

"I had my regrets about changing my daughter's mind.  Moira informed me that Jean and her siblings had been secretly communicating with their mother.  I knew, as did Moira, that Phoenix's telepathy was the only possibility.  And even though both of us were extremely reluctant, we knew that I had to act, that I had to do something to make sure that Phoenix did not become too powerful and wind up corrupted by her own might.  

"Doing the deed, however, proved difficult beyond your comprehension.  When I encountered Phoenix, she and her brother were waiting for me.  Only through possibly the greatest test in my life was I able to overcome their combined strength and mold Phoenix into her 'rightful' self, that of Jean MacTaggert.  

"That, however, was not the end.  To this day, I remain watchful of the others, making sure they do not end up like Phoenix—as inimitable forces of nature.  I took it upon myself that, after Jean was born, I would watch over her personally.  I gave her to a former student of mine, whose wife was incapable of bearing children.  He raised Jean as his own, with the truth locked away in his mind by my own hand, with his consent, so that Jean would not stumble onto it."  

A heavy silence followed this revelation.  For a long moment, no one spoke.  Glances were exchanged, until— 

"Charles," Ororo said, "the way you say it, it sounds as though Jean is—"  

"More than a mutant?" he finished.  "She is.  As incredible as it may seem, Jean MacTaggert—Phoenix—is actually the next step in evolution, what lies ahead for mutants."  

A heavy silence filled the common room, with stunned expressions aiming at Xavier.  

************************************************************************

"Open the door already," Shadowcat growled.  She glanced down at herself again, still seeing the burn marks and tears that marred her costume, trophies from that giant firebird.  

The others weren't that much better off: Nightcrawler was practically half-dead, and Quicksilver was moving as stiffly as an old man.  On top of it all, Iceman wasn't anywhere to be found! 

_Man, Mystique's going to have my head when she hears that_, Shadowcat thought grimly.  The girl shuddered as she imagined the metamorph's reaction: Eyes blazing, face contorted with fury… 

"Come on, let's get inside," Quicksilver said.  

Shadowcat realized he had opened the door and followed him into the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House.  Nightcrawler was last to enter, shutting the door with a slap of his prehensile tail.  The trio moved towards the stairs, intent on refreshing themselves, when a voice like poisoned honey called out to them.  

"Oh children, why don't you come see your mommy?" a sultry woman's voice invited.  

Freezing in their tracks, the mutants slowly turned their heads to see the living room—and noticed that the comfy purple armchair was occupied.  

"Come here," the woman ordered, and they complied.  When they had fallen into place, she studied them before speaking again.  "I must say, you three made an interesting spectacle of yourselves today."  

"Yes, Raven," said Irene Adler as she entered the room.  "They most certainly did."  

Even Mystique seemed surprised by the reappearance of her old friend.  She stared at the blind precognitive as if just seeing her.  

"What are you doing here?" Mystique asked.  

"Making sure I won't be left out of anything, mostly," Irene responded.  "Other than that, I thought I'd remind you about one of my previous visits.  You know, the one where I told you about the powerful mutant?" 

At first, Mystique seemed as bemused as her charges, but then her face lit up with realization.  

"That's right, Raven," Irene nodded.  

"Why didn't you _tell_ me it was Jean Grey?" Mystique demanded.  She attempted to stand up, but sucked in a lungful of air through her teeth as her bodily injuries forced her back down.  Nightcrawler took a step forward, intending to help his mother, but she halted him with a look.  

"Because I did not know at that point in time," Irene answered simply.  

Mystique snarled.  "Sometimes your powers are so useless!  We never know what we need to know!"  

"Oh, but you do, Raven, you do," Irene said softly.  

"Oh really?" Mystique growled.  "If we had known that Jean Grey was such a powerhouse, we would have recruited her _long ago_, before Xavier started his ward-collecting drive.  She could be our greatest proponent!"  

"And you think Magneto would have let _you_ do such a thing?" Irene asked.  "He would never entrust you with such a delicate task.  The man would have taken it upon himself to make the girl come to us."  

"Irene, either make yourself useful or get out!  I've had enough of your head games!" 

The blind woman didn't answer for a moment.  Then— 

"I'll help you recover, of course, but you and the others must heed me in the coming future."  

"Oh?  And what are your wise words now?" Mystique asked bluntly.  

"My visions are becoming far more fragmented than before.  I can hardly discern useful data from them.  But what I have learned is this: Jean Grey is already too powerful to confront directly.  And…" 

"And what?" Mystique asked, narrowing her eyes.  

Before Irene could answer, there was a creaking floorboard's distinctive noise from the hallway.  Shadowcat, Quicksilver, and Nightcrawler turned to see Iceman stride by, heading up the stairs, presumably to his room.  

"That firebird must have melted him or something," Quicksilver said.  "You suppose?" 

"It's possible," Shadowcat conceded.  

"Quiet, all of you!" Mystique snapped.  Turning back to Irene, she said, "And what, Irene?  What else is there?" 

Irene removed her glasses, and stared into Mystique's eyes with her own pale, lifeless orbs.  

"And she is not alone…"  

***********************************************************************

AUTHOR: Things are really cooking now, aren't they?  Don't worry; they get even better!  

**Next chapter**: Professor Xavier pays a visit to Bayville Psychiatric Asylum, hoping to beef up the X-Men's ranks in order to tackle his renegade daughter, Phoenix.  But will he be able to control everything?  Emotions boil over as Scott disputes Lance for Jean's emotions, with a vicious fight as the result.  Can the X-Men stay together?  

READ N REVIEW! 


	15. Bewitched

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait, but my job and homework leave little time aside!  That, and I'm trying to do artwork for my Kim Possible fics!  

TO CrimsonCoyote: No, David won't be evil like in the comics, but he will be "different."  

TO furygrrl: Jean and David's reunion will take place first chapter of the sequel, I'm sorry to say.  He can't fit in this fic, so I had to put him there.  Don't worry; it'll be good.  

TO Sandoz: Kudos to the infinite power to you on "Rock Your World."  I regret to say David won't be making a "full appearance" until the sequel's first chapter, but it'll be worth the wait.  As for Emma and Tessa being sisters: I got the idea from _X-Men: Ronin_, which is a Marvel Mangaverse comic.  Oh, and are you plotting a sequel?  

**TO ALL**: Everyone must go out immediately and buy a copy of _Ultimate X-Men #38_!  It has a truly awesome Phoenix appearance!  

**********************************************************************

Chapter 15: Bewitched 

"Do you believe the Professor?" Evan asked, staring out the picture windows of the kitchen.  "I mean, it all sounds so _unreal_…" 

"I don't know," Scott admitted.  "It's the only possible explanation, but I can't get how fast everything is happening.  Evolution takes millions of years.  Humans have been around for, what, three million years?"  

"I think, but I heard about ten thousand."  

"Human evolution could have started three million years ago, though," Scott pointed out.  "If it did, and it took a very unique path, then this might be happening."  

Evan held up a hand.  "Okay, man, you just lost me right there."  

"Think about it," Scott said.  "Evolution could have made leaps and bounds to create us, and then made another leap and bound to create Jean—if what the Professor says is true."  He shook his head.  "I'm not sure I believe anything about him anymore.  First, we find out that he's Jean's father, and then she runs away, and now this 'Phoenix' pops up and beats the living crap out of us—it's just a bit too much to swallow all at once."  

"Yeah, but after all that's happened, why lie to us even more?" Evan asked.  "Would you really want to keep lying to a bunch of kids that depend on you for so much info about things they have no clue of?" 

"Good point," Scott admitted.  "Still, Professor Xavier lied to us.  He owes us for all the hell he's put us through."  

Evan stared at his friend.  "What are you gonna do, man?  Shake him down for some money or something?" 

Scott shook his head.  "No, nothing like that.  But I'm fed up with him keeping things from us.  We need to know more about Jean, and right now."  

"You're going to ask about her brother?"  

"Him, _and_ whatever remaining siblings she has.  Remember, Professor X said she had siblings; she wasn't an only child, nor did she have just one other birth-buddy."  

Evan shrugged.  "Makes sense.  We have a right to know if any more all-powerful maniacs are out there, waiting for us."  

"Tell me about it."  

Evan paused a moment before speaking again.  "But you aren't going to the Professor right this minute, are you?  Shouldn't you think about whatever argument you'll have with him, just so you don't screw up or anything?" 

Scott froze, letting Evan's words sink in.  What the black mutant said made sense.  (AN: Technically, he is black, and some "black" people don't like being called African-American, sometimes because they're not African.)  

"You're right," he told Evan.  "I need to think out what I'm going to say.  But I can't do it right now.  My mind has the strength of a starved mouse."  He stood from the table, heading toward the door.  "I'm going to clear my head."  

********************************************************************

Lance shot the pool stick forward, the blue powdered-end ramming against the top ball.  The spheres were knocked apart from each other, and Lance straightened, grabbing the small blue cube and rubbing it on the end of his stick as he watched a striped ball vanish into a side pocket.  

_Just like me_, Lance thought with a tinge of anger.  _Always on the side, never good enough to be the guy to save anything—or any_one.  At this, his mood darkened considerably, and the pool stick nearly snapped in half from his tightening grip.  

_If I could just try_ hard enough, _then nothing bad would happen_.  Angrily, he slammed the pool stick onto the table with enough force to make the balls shudder slightly.  _But I can never try hard enough.  It's like the world's set against me, and there aren't any odds in my favor_.  

Lance let out a very heavy sigh, letting the minutes drag on… 

**********************************************************************

"Where do ye think ye're going, Charles?" Moira asked, stepping into his study.  

Xavier glanced up from his study desk and then resumed sorting papers.  "I'm leaving."  

Moira froze, halfway toward him, staring at her husband.  "Leaving?" 

"Yes."  

"But, Charles, ye cannae leave!" 

"I have to."  

_Stupid bloody sod_, Moira thought.  With a harsh tone she said, "Charles, in case you've forgotten, our _daughter_ has run away and needs to be brought back home."  

Still not looking at his wife, Xavier replied, "I have not forgotten, Moira.  I simply must leave."  

"And where are ye going to?" she demanded.  "To David?  Ye know he doesna like ye much."  

Sighing, Xavier paused in his work and looked at the woman.  "Moira, I am not abandoning one child of mine to go help another," he told her.  "What I am doing is briefly refreshing my memory of two very unique individuals so that I am better prepared for when I meet them today."  

Surprised by this, Moira let her ire slide away.  "Who?" she asked.  

"Two mutant girls at Bayville Psychiatric Hospital."  

"Can you get any more specific?" 

"At the moment, no, I am in a bit of a hurry.  I'll tell everyone here about them when they arrive, though.  These girls have been through very rough lives, and I have been putting each of them through therapy for quite a few years now.  I believe they have made enough progress to pose little real threat to the other X-Men."  

Moira brow furrowed.  "What do ye mean, little real threat?  Are these lasses dangerous?" 

"Extremely dangerous, but I can and _will_ rein them in if it means I might get my own daughter back."  

Moira hesitated to speak for a moment.  It appeared that Xavier was more determined than before to see Jean safely returned to him, even though he was mostly the one to blame for everything that had happened.  

_Even when Jean and the others were talking with me telepathically, I knew Charles's plans would hurt us.  Those poor children, all broken up from one another and now Jean's real identity is starting to take its rightful place_.  It wasn't easy, but Moira managed to fight back a tear.  

"Moira?" Xavier asked, eyeing her.  She snapped back to reality and he said, "I'm leaving now.  Ororo will be driving me, so if you need something from a staff member, you will have to get it from Logan."  

Moira nodded.  "Very well then, Charles.  A trust ye'll be all right?" 

He nodded.  "Well enough to fix this whole fiasco."  

The Professor rolled out of the study, leaving Moira to stand there.  After a few minutes of thinking, she went to her room.  

Xavier proceeded to the elevator, summoning it to take him to the ground floor.  As the elevator descended, he thought of just how he would handle the situation that would inevitably arise at the hospital.  Neither of the girls was particularly cooperative, and only through psychic influence and some regular diplomacy had Xavier managed to keep them at the hospital.  

Exiting the elevator, he rolled to the front entrance and out the doors, moving down the disabled person's ramp and coming up next to the classy black car Ororo had selected.  After getting in and securing his wheelchair, Xavier buckled in and Ororo began driving.  

"Charles, I know this may be prying, but what exactly are we going to Bayville Psychiatric for?" the wind-rider asked.  

"I'm going to do everything in my power to convince a couple of wayward young girls to join our ranks," Xavier replied.  "It won't be easy, though, since they both have exceptionally dangerous talents and thirsts for revenge."  

"Revenge?" Ororo gasped, surprised.  _How could Charles think of bringing such people into the mansion?_  Then again, she realized, Logan hadn't had the nicest personality when she first met him.  

"I'll explain later, Ororo," the Professor assured her.  "Right now, though, I must tend to the ladies themselves."  

Ororo pulled the vehicle up to the front steps and helped Xavier into his wheelchair, escorting him to the front doors before going back to the car and parking it.  When she returned, she accompanied the Professor through the front doors and up to the receptionist's desk.  

"Excuse me," Xavier said.  "I believe I have a session scheduled today."  

"Name?" the woman asked without looking at him, pulling a record book to herself and opening it.  

"Xavier, Professor Charles."  

After a minute of searching, the receptionist said, "Yes, you're booked here.  You can go right to Room 31 while we get your…charges."  

Nodding, Xavier had Ororo accompany him to the room.  It was a drab and rather ordinary, if very bare, chamber, meant for things other than comfort.  Upon arriving there, he told her, "Ororo, perhaps you should wait out in the car."  

The woman raised an eyebrow.  "Are you sure, Charles?" 

"I don't want you to have to go through whatever hell these girls may create."  

Nodding, Ororo reluctantly left and went back to the car.  Xavier waited in the room, letting his mind reach out… 

***********************************************************************

In another part of the hospital, over a dozen equipped staff members braced themselves for the worst.  They were only trained to handle so much, and this girl was…well, she was a heck of a lot more than anything they were trained for!  

"Everyone ready?" the head staff member, Patrick Stewart, called out.  When he saw the others give their nods, he yelled, "Open the cube!" 

"The cube" was pretty much what its name implied: A cube, which happened to be rather large and made out of solid steel.  The top and four sides had thick steel columns attached to them, which were used to open and close the cube, keeping the patient within locked up.  

Unfortunately, the staff was to release rather than incarcerate today, a task that always made them incredibly fearful.  After all, this particular patient was one of the most dangerous people they had ever met.  

With a hiss of hydraulics, the top and fours sides retracted, pulling away from each other.  On the cube's base, a young girl sat on her knees, hunched over.  The straightjacket she wore was tight and stiff enough to keep her from curling up completely, and added to the image she presented: That of a mental ward patient, with her dark hair hanging in tangled clumps.  

"Now just stay calm, Wanda," Stewart said, approaching her.  "The Professor just wants to talk to you.  There's nothing to worry about."  

His words, though, fell on deaf ears.  With a snarl, Wanda tapped into her innate mutant powers.  The room shuddered, as though a tremor were rolling through the area.  Wanda stood up, her legs shaking; because she spent more time than not sitting in one position or another while in the cube, her legs weren't highly developed.  

Unlocking his knees, Stewart managed to keep his footing through the tremor.  Pointing at the girl, he yelled, "Stun her!" 

Several staff members moved forward, their electric batons ready.  Though the devices were on a low setting, they would weaken Wanda enough to get her to the Professor.  

But the sight of the batons only added fuel to Wanda's fire.  _No!_ she thought, her anger flaring at the idea of being caged again.  Her powers surged again, and the batons either short-circuited or exploded.  

"Oh, _GOD_!" screamed one of the staff.  "My hand!  Look what she did to my hand!"  His baton's explosion had put shrapnel in his hand and caused horrible burning.  

Wanda though, was unconcerned for his safety, or for anyone else's.  All that mattered to her was getting out of this awful place.  Concentrating for a second, she made the latches snap, which mostly freed her arms.  Grinning, she looked back at the staff, her eyes narrowing.  

"Wanda, please!" Stewart started to say, but was cut off when the lights started to shine brightly.  "What?" he wondered, staring at them.  

The other staff members looked as well, just as the bulb flashed brighter than before and exploded.  The staff shielded their eyes from any glass fragments, allowing Wanda to make a run for the door, pulling it open, going through to the hallway beyond, and slamming it shut.  

Breathing hard, she leaned against the door.  After a second's rest, she took a deep breath and forced the door's lock to twist, sealing everyone on the other side in the room.  

_Gotta get outta here_, she thought, and began moving down the hallway.  She could hear the shouting and pounding of the staff on the heavy iron door, but they were unable to get through.  Wanda smiled, feeling slightly better already.  She had never liked being caged, and now those jerks were getting what they gave her.  

Reaching the end of the hallway, Wanda paused, listening for anyone, and then moved on to the next hallway.  Finding no one there, she ran down its length—and froze.  Straining, she heard the footsteps, many of them, heading right for her.  

_Have to hide_, she thought, frantically looking around.  Luckily, she had happened to be standing next to a door.  Opening it, she entered without a second thought and closed it behind her, heaving a sigh of relief as the footsteps passed her and faded away.  

"Hello, Wanda.  I've been expecting you."  

The black-haired girl froze.  

*********************************************************************

The doctors jumped when the lights in their room flashed brightly and then went out.  

Frowning, Dr. Jackman said, "Great.  No lights."  

"Uh, Dr. Jackman?" said the other man, Dr. Marsden.  

Turning, Jackman said, "What?" 

Marsden raised an arm and pointed at the machines that lined one of the room's walls.  "The machines are dead," he half-whispered.  "The patient's going to wake up.  Maybe we should get out of here while we still can."  

Nodding, his eyes still on the young girl, Jackman backed away from her bed, moving toward the door.  Marsden reached it first, twisted the handle and jerked it open— 

Only to find a _thing_ standing there, waiting for them.  It was at least seven feet tall, hunched over, with broad shoulders and slick, green skin.  Marsden and Jackman froze in their tracks, and then immediately backed up, hoping to distance themselves from whatever this creature was.  

Shuffling forward a few steps, struggling to fit through the doorway.  For it a moment, it appeared to be stuck, and the doctors allowed themselves a brief feeling of hope.  But then the creature spasmed, its hideous head jutting forward at the two men like a freakish bodily organ.  The creature's face bulged, its cheeks puffing out like small balloons, and it opened its mouth.  

Out flew hundreds, maybe thousands, of large black moths.  The insects moved as one for the doctors, who went instantly into hysterics.  The moths clung to their clothes and skin, and began to crawl through their hair.  

Screaming wildly, as any terrified person would, the men swiftly sunk into unconsciousness, their fears overwhelming them.  As they passed out, the moths continued to crawl over their bodies for a few moments…before they began to disappear.  Even the large creature vanished, its body disintegrating in a wave of golden yellow that rolled down its form.  

With a burst of life, the young girl sat upright in her bed.  Spotting the unconscious doctors, she immediately began to remove the monitor patches and needles from her body.  Sliding her legs over one side of the bed, she tested them before finding they were still capable of moving her around with no real trouble.  

_I must be the only one here who fakes sleep_, the girl thought as she moved toward the door.  Making sure her backside wasn't exposed in the medical gown, she gently sent a telepathic probe out, making sure the hallway outside her room was clear of anyone.  If, for some reason, there was someone there, she could always manipulate his or her perceptions.  

_I'm not a mastermind for nothing_, the girl thought.  Opening the door, she stepped into the hallway, strutting down it.  _Jesus, I must look like a freak.  Better find a mirror and straighten myself up_.  She ran a hand through her blonde hair.  _And fast_.  

Striding down the hallway, she kept a continuous telepathic sweep up for anyone who might come her way.  After all, it would really suck if she reached the exit and got caught because she was too stupid to keep an eye out.  

_No one's going to catch Regan Wyngarde_ that _easily_, the blonde girl thought, her resolve to escape hardening.  She hastened her pace slightly, growing impatient at not being out of what she considered a veritable prison.  

_I'm going to find the exit_, she thought, and grew a smug smile.  _I'm going to find that damn exit and get…out_…  

Turning, she looked at the words printed on the door she had just passed: Main Hall.  Regan perked up.  She was practically outside!  Opening it, she was momentarily stunned to find that there were several people there, which she had not detected with her telepathy.  Frowning, she thought, _What's going on?  I should have known they were there.  Something isn't making sense_.  

 The receptionist looked up when the door clicked shut behind Regan, and her eyes went wide.  Jumping out of her seat, she pointed at Regan and said, "Security!  Subdue her!  She's not supposed to be out of her cell!" 

Two men, both carrying nightsticks, looked at Regan and drew the weapons, advancing on her.  Rolling her eyes, the girl tapped her powers.  

One of the guards, a large bodybuilder type, suddenly halted and began grabbing at his leg, crying out.  His partner looked at him, baffled.  

"What is it?" the partner asked.  

"Something's crawling up my leg!" the first guard yelled, losing his balance from his clutching and falling onto his back.  

His partner moved to help, but the first guard screamed, causing him to pause.  The downed man thrashed uncontrollably, and then something like a thick hose began worming its way from his pants to his head.  It looked like an octopus's tentacle in a general sense as it slid up his chest.  The man clawed at it frantically, his screams driven by pure terror.  

The "tentacle" reached the collar of his shirt and slid through, revealing itself to be a large, furious-looking python.  Hissing, the snake reared back, its fangs bared.  The downed guard grabbed it to keep the thing from successfully attacking him, but it did little good, as the snake thrashed around, attempting to free itself from its victim's grip.  

Looking repeatedly from his partner to Regan, the second guard didn't know what to do—so Regan decided for him.  Pieces of plaster dropped onto his head, just enough to make him duck down and then back away from where he had been standing, looking up to see what was happening.  

And what he found shocked both him and the receptionist: Large cracks were spreading like wildfire across the ceiling.  The man and woman began backing up and then, abandoning all hope the ceiling would hold out, made a run for the door.  

With a monstrous crack, the ceiling caved in.  Large chunks rained down from above, blocking off the entrance.  The guard and receptionist halted, looking like cornered animals for an escape route.  

"_Oh God, will somebody please help me?!_" screamed the first guard, still wrestling against the snake.  It snapped at him, coming ever closer to his face.  

Ignoring him, the receptionist and remaining guard attempted to dig through the rubble.  But their efforts were for naught; another cave-in brought more of the ceiling down atop their heads, trapping them underneath.  They screamed, calling for help.  

And watching the events unfold calmly was Regan Wyngarde.  

But she didn't see any actual rubble or a snake.  What she saw were three people laying on the floor, all of them screaming and the one with the snake thrashing about.  Shaking her head, she walked through the "rubble," which was in fact just an illusion.  Regan could choose to see the illusions she cast or ignore them, but she always knew when they were there.  

Smirking, she reached the door, ready to step out into the free world—when something totally unexpected happened.  

All at once, the entire room and everything and everyone inside of it, save for Regan, dissolved.  It flowed together into a single mass, swirling around her as though it were some sort of living, multicolored mist.  

Gasping, Regan backed up, trying to figure out what was going on.  Her back hit what felt like a wall, which didn't make any sense to the girl, since the room had melted right before her eyes.  

Abruptly, the "melted room" flowed back to something like its original dimensions, and Regan found herself in one of the hospital's numerous hallways.  

_What the hell is going on here?_ she wondered, looking around as though expecting to find a clue.  When none presented itself, she turned around to see if she really _had_ backed up against a wall, and found herself facing a door labeled "Room 31."  

_Why not?_  Taking a deep breath, she clasped the doorknob and opened the portal.  Beyond the door, waiting patiently inside the room, was the all-too familiar Professor Xavier.  _Oh God, it's the Devil_, she thought wryly.  

_I heard that, young lady_, Xavier responded, frowning.  He motioned to the chairs that were positioned next to his wheelchair.  _Have a seat in the nearest one_.  

Abandoning the whole "telepathic speech," Regan asked, "Any reason?" 

As if on cue, a figure materialized in the chair nearer the window: A girl who was maybe Regan's age with black hair that reached to her shoulders.  The new girl didn't appear to notice Regan, so the blonde took her seat, watching Xavier.  

The Professor turned to them both, and the dark-haired girl cast a glance in Regan's direction, jumping when she saw her, as if Regan had appeared from thin air.  

"Wanda Maximoff, this is Regan Wyngarde.  Regan, Wanda," Xavier introduced.  "You two have been, up until now, kept apart and put through rehabilitation sessions administered by myself."  

"Um, not to interrupt here, Professor," Regan spoke up, "but what exactly are we doing here together?"  

Xavier hesitated a moment before answering.  "You are here because I need your help instead of the other way around.  Despite the fact that you two are rather unstable and harbor a rather deep-rooted hatred for both of your fathers, I need you to help me with a situation that has arisen."  

Regan frowned.  The issues she had with her father were none of Xavier's business.  The old fart had forced his way into her life, and now he had the audacity to ask for _her_ help?  That was rich!  

"What if we don't want to help?" Wanda asked, practically voicing Regan's thoughts.  "The only help you give us is bad help."  

Xavier sighed.  "Wanda, I know this is very difficult to accept, but what your father did to you—specifically, putting you in here—he did for good reason.  You were uncontrollable.  You must understand that the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem."  

Wanda responded with an acid tone.  "The only problem I have is my father being alive."  

Xavier's gaze didn't waver.  "You might be surprised that Regan has much the same dilemma.  Her father did not treat her very well either."  He paused, and then continued.  "In fact, the reason I need your help is because I also am having problems with my family.  I thought that the two of you, once rehabilitated, would be able to assist me, much the same way I assisted you."  

While Wanda glowered at Xavier, seemingly insulted that he would dare think such things, Regan was actually rather surprised.  Not only hadn't she expected to find somebody who could understand her relationship with her father, but learning that Xavier had a family was as shocking as shocking could get.  

"That's really sweet," Regan said, "but it doesn't mean we'll help.  You kept us locked up in here, and put us through all that meaningless therapy."  

"It was most definitely not useless, Regan," Xavier told her.  "The goal of those sessions was to help you overcome your problems.  Let me assure you, the ones you will face are much worse, and will require all your energies."  

Regan snorted disbelievingly.  

"Will it get me my father?" Wanda asked suddenly.  

Xavier looked at her warily.  "I can't say exactly.  If your father chooses to involve himself any further in this, perhaps—"  

"Hold it!" Wanda said, cutting him off.  "My father is involved in this?  How?" 

Xavier considered the answer carefully before responding.  "He visited me not long before things began to fall apart.  He said that he know about our secrets—"  

"What secrets?" Wanda demanded, interrupting again.  

"I believed it was a secret that I was helping you, his daughter.  His secret was that he knew about Jean."  

"Who's Jean?" Regan asked, deciding to participate in the conversation again.  

Xavier did not reply immediately.  His eyes seemed to cloud over, becoming distant.  Regan cocked an eyebrow; this was definitely not like the old man.  

"She was my daughter," he said finally.  "But something has come up, and that is why I am here, and why I am not leaving without you two following me."  

Wanda and Regan looked at each other, surprised by the tone he had.  Xavier sounded as though he had just laid down a commandment.  

_He's dead serious_, Regan realized.  _He honestly wants to help his daughter.  Maybe I should_.  A dark emotion inside of her flared as she thought of freedom.  _I could finally get my revenge_.  

"This is not about revenge, Regan," Xavier said stiffly, giving her a reproachful look.  "It is about setting things right."  

Regan eyed him, wondering just how to respond.  From all the signs, the man genuinely wanted to be back with his kid—at least, that's what it sounded like.  The blonde had no idea what Wanda was thinking.  She could look inside the raven-haired girl's mind with her telepathy, but Xavier would probably be ticked.  

_What's it gonna be, R?_ she asked herself.  _Life in here or out there?_  

Looking the Professor in the eye, she said, "I'll help."  

At first, this stunned Xavier.  He had been expecting Regan to demand that he promise to help her find her father and do God-knows-what to him.  Xavier felt sorry for the target of Regan's anger.  

"Me too."  

Snapping back to reality, Xavier blinked at Wanda.  "Oh?" 

She nodded.  "But one catch: No one tries to stop me when I find Magneto."  

Xavier gave her a hard look.  "Wanda, I dearly want to help you, but if you are going to continue with this vengeful quest of yours, I'm afraid you will have to undergo more sessions while staying here."  

Wanda's anger flared back up, her hatred of Xavier now rivaling that of her father.  "You—"  

She broke off so suddenly that Regan thought someone had actually snuck into the room and killed her.  The blonde watched with a shocked expression as Wanda's eyes rolled up into her head.  With a weak gurgle, she collapsed in a heap on the floor, leaving Regan to stare at her body.  

"In case you're wondering, I used my powers on her," Xavier explained calmly.  "I am not in a mood to tolerate any rants."  

Regan nodded.  "Right."  

Xavier rotated his chair toward the door, approaching it.  "I'll arrange for the hospital to release Wanda and yourself.  Stay here."  

"What if she wakes up?" Regan asked.  

"She won't."  

************************************************************************

Wanda woke up halfway back to the Institute, and wasn't very pleased by the news that Xavier had psychically knocked her out.  Luckily, the Professor had gone a step further in the use of his powers and had given Wanda a kind of "happy thought," which kept her from doing anything but complaining.  

As Ororo drove the car past the front gates, Xavier looked to his newest charges.  "Now, I want the both of you to be on good behavior.  The others here at the Institute have been going through enough turmoil without you, and I would hate for them to suffer any further."  

"So basically no fun," Regan summed up.  

"If by 'fun' you mean casting illusions and almost driving people insane, then yes, I mean no fun."  

Regan sighed wistfully.  "And I was _so_ looking forward to new playmates."  

Xavier's disapproving gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned back to look out the windshield at the front steps of the Institute as Ororo slowed to a halt.  

"All right, girls, you can have an hour to clean yourselves up, and then I want to introduce you both to the rest of the people here," Xavier informed Regan and Wanda.  

The words had just left his mouth when the ground shook violently.  It lasted for a moment and then stopped, and both Xavier and Ororo looked to the Institute, dark expressions on their faces.  

"Avalanche."  

*******************************************************************

When Freddy, Todd, Evan, and the rest of the X-Men reached the lower levels of the Xavier Institute, they were more than shocked to find it in a rather demolished state.  

The ceiling was pitted with what appeared to be craters, and the ground was cracked and uneven, jutting out and dropping down.  The lights were barely working, emitting sparks and flickering on and off repeatedly.  Small showers of dust rained down to the floor every couple of moments, and the general darkness made the area seem foreboding.  

Surveying the damage, Evan asked, "Man, what _did_ this?" 

As if in reply, the ground shook again, and there were faint sounds of fighting coming from down the darkened hallway.  The mutants looked at each other, questions in their eyes.  

"Does anyone know who's down here?" Rogue asked.  

Sniffing the air, Logan said, "I can smell Scott and Lance."  

"_They_ did this?" Todd asked disbelievingly.  He whistled.  "Man, wish I had a tape of that to sell to Real TV."  

"Shouldn't we be stopping them?" Fred asked.  "I mean, they're wrecking the place."  

"Oh, I'll stop them all right," Logan said, starting down the hallway.  

He had barely taken three strides when a blast of crimson lit up the far end of the hallway.  Obviously, Scott was using his powers, but though the energy beam seemed to be headed right for Logan, its center was divided by something.  

Everyone realized what that something was when it plowed into Logan, knocking him back and forcing the others to move aside lest they be hit as well.  The feral X-Man and the thing that hit him hit the ground and rolled over a few times before stopping.  

Growling, Logan slowly got up, looking at what hit him.  To his surprise, it was Lance.  The boy's clothes were torn and had obviously seen better days, as they were heavily marred.  

"Alvers!" shouted Scott, who came storming towards his fellow mutants.  "You better be awake, 'cause I've got plenty more where that came from!" 

Snarling, Logan advanced on Scott, who just seemed to notice him for the first time.  "All right, bub!" Logan snapped.  "You got some explaining to do!" 

"Logan, I—" Scott sputtered, at a loss for words.  

"What do you think you're _doing_?" Logan demanded.  "I don't remember anyone telling you to wreck the mansion!" 

"It's _his_ fault!" Scott said, jabbing a finger at the still-unconscious Lance.  "I came down to the pool room to clear my head and he started a fight with me!" 

"That's not good enough!" Logan barked.  "When the Professor hears about this—!" 

_He will be most displeased_, an ominous voice informed everyone telepathically.  _Logan, kindly take Lance to the infirmary.  Scott, I want to see you in my study—immediately_.  

_Yes, Professor_, the young man replied despondently.  Xavier was most likely going to all but crucify him for what he'd done.  

As Scott moved to leave, Logan stooped down and hefted Lance off the ground, following after Scott as he ascended the stairs.  For reasons that still eluded the Canadian mutant, Xavier had built the infirmary one level up from the pool hall.  

*********************************************************************

Upstairs, Xavier withdrew from his trance-like state and looked at Ororo.  "Logan is taking Lance to the infirmary, and Scott is headed to my study for a rather harsh scolding."  

Nodding, Ororo asked, "What about Regan and Wanda?"  

"Take Wanda to the infirmary and have her help you with Lance," Xavier answered.  "Regan, I want you to go to your room and stay there.  We don't need any more madness around here."  

"Where _is_ my room?" 

Xavier told her where it was.  "Now get along.  I have urgent matters to attend."  

He began rolling away, and Ororo and Wanda left as well, leaving Regan to herself.  She shrugged, deciding to look around.  After all, Xavier had just gotten her on his side; what were the chances he'd kick her out just for not complying with a small request like going to her room?  

None, Regan knew, and started to walk about the Institute, examining it.  The place was much less gloomy than Bayville Psychiatric Hospital was, with its lightly toned walls and marble busts.  The plants added a pleasant affect as well, she thought.  

A smile formed on her lips as she strolled about unchecked, not worried in the least that Xavier would punish her for disobeying him.  She had always been like that; she ignored authority.  

Sounds caught her ear, and Regan moved to investigate.  She found herself in a lounge of sorts, a comfy-looking room with a fireplace.  Furniture and a few paintings were also in the room, but Regan paid more attention to the TV that had been wheeled in on a cart.  One of the room's couches was facing it, and Regan plopped herself down comfortably in the middle, and started watching.  

The show, one of those soap operas that Regan rather despised, was actually fairly relieving.  Perhaps she was losing touch with her tastes, or perhaps she was gaining new ones, but either way, this particular show was making her feel better simply by watching such trash.  

_Either I'm going nuts, or my time in the hospital is starting to wear off_, she thought.  And then she heard people approaching: Real ones, as her telepathic probes ascertained.  She let them enter the room, but didn't pay any attention to them.  

"Who's that?" one of the kids asked.  

"Doesn't matter, does it?" replied a girl with white locks framing either side of her face.  She took a seat next to Regan, who continued to pay her no obvious heed.  

Reluctantly, keeping an eye on the blond illusionist, the other mutants took seats.  After several moments, they also began to watch the soap, but were unaware as to what lay in store for them.  

**********************************************************************

"Enter."  

Scott swallowed as much of his fear as possible, though it was no mean task when it kept building back up; destroying a good portion on the Institute's underground levels will make anyone dread Professor Xavier's wrath.  

Opening the door, he entered the study, moving instinctively towards the chairs that were in front of Xavier's desk.  Scott had been in them numerous times: When he first came to the Institute; when he had first met Jean; when the Professor told the X-Men they were going to Camp Ironback… 

_This is gonna be a_ lot _worse than camp_, Scott thought dismally.  

_You are correct, Mr. Summers_, Xavier's stern tone affirmed in his head.  As the young man took his seat, Xavier shifted his position, putting his arms on the unyielding ones of his wheelchair.  "First and foremost, Scott, I must express how very disappointed in you I am."  

"But—" Scott began, hoping to explain.  

"But nothing," Xavier said coldly.  "Though Lance also participated in that utterly senseless brawl, you played a part of it.  You helped demolish most of one of the lower levels of this facility.  You are as much to blame as your fellow X-Man."  

Scott's head lowered shamefully.  

"I honestly had faith that you would handle this in a more diplomatic way, Scott.  Of all the people here, you are perhaps the one who believes in my dream the most.  You have virtually never failed to set a proper example for the others, but this time you have indeed failed.  We are facing what may be our toughest challenge yet—fighting something that is inevitable—and you go and have a brawl with your friend and teammate!" 

Scott was, frankly, surprised at the Professor's outburst.  He had rarely seen the man angry, and this was one of those rare times.  

"What could possibly have caused you to destroy part of the Institute, Scott?" Xavier demanded.  "What possible reason could you have for fighting with Lance Alvers, and with your powers, no less?"  

For a moment, Scott couldn't answer.  It felt like his mouth was frozen and totally immovable.  Then the moment passed, and he found himself trying to make an excuse that Xavier would not be happy to hear.  

"Well, I," he began, and then paused, studying the Professor's eyes.  They were eyes that commanded respect and expected nothing short of complete honesty.  "I went downstairs to clear my head with some pool, and I found Alvers there, already in a game."  

It was puzzling to Scott how he now referred to Lance by his last name, when they were usually on a first-name basis.  Still, he continued, knowing that Xavier expected him to go on.  

"Alvers was a little annoyed by my showing up there, so he mostly ignored me.  I tried to get a friendly game going, explaining that we were both just put through hell in more than one way and that we needed to make sure everything was all right between us."  He sighed.  "It couldn't have gone more disastrous: Alvers accused me of being a snotty, conceited control-freak and that Jean was better off alone than with me, and I retaliated, calling him a thug and accusing him of harassing Jean since he joined up."  

Scott wasn't sure if it was real, but the Professor's frown seemed to have magnified at least tenfold.  

"Our words became more insulting, and then I poked a finger in Alvers's chest, saying some pretty nasty stuff.  He shoved me, and things just took from there.  I reached for my glasses, just to give him a light blast, and he sent me sprawling with his own abilities.  You can, uh, imagine what happened after that."  Scott stopped there, shifting just barely, becoming more and more uncomfortable in Xavier's presence than ever before.  

The head of the X-Men held a thick, long silence that was deafening to Scott's ears.  He wished that the Professor would just say something, that he would give some indication that he was still _alive_ in there… 

But all Xavier did was stare unblinkingly at Scott, causing the boy's skin to crawl.  

Finally, Xavier said, "Go."  

Scott blinked, clearly surprised by the summary dismissal.  "Excuse me?" he asked.  

"I said go, as in get out."  

The boy didn't understand.  "I'm…not sure what you mean, Professor."  

"I mean that you have seriously tried my patience and I want you to get out of this room immediately."  

These words Scott was able to comprehend.  He silently exited the study, closing the door behind him and heading toward his room.  As he walked, he hoped Professor Xavier wouldn't be mad at him for too long.  

***********************************************************************

"He's…kinda cute," Wanda complimented.  She stared down at Lance as he lay in the infirmary bed.  Logan and Ororo were still with her, but busy preparing Lance's "medication."  

"I suppose you could say that," Ororo said, responding to the girl's statement.  "Lance _is_ somewhat handsome."  

"And here I was hoping you'd save a compliment like that for me, 'Ro," Logan said with a grin.  

Ororo smiled at him.  "I recall trying to think that when I first met you: Tough, shirtless, claws bared…and quite hairy."  

Logan looked surprised at her for a moment, and then laughed.  "Yeah, but I shaved when we got to the Institute."  

"I know, and it still has no effect on your stubble," the woman replied with a chuckle.  

Wanda ignored them both, continuing to eye Lance.  His short, disheveled brown hair was currently very messy, but she didn't mind that.  In fact, it seemed to make him all the cuter.  To Wanda, he had a boyish face that drew attention to him, made him really worth noticing.  Combined with his hair, it forged Lance into a real looker.  

_I wonder if he'd like my hair like it is or shorter_, she wondered.  She had been trying to decide whether or not she should get her hair cut short, despite the fact that it would possibly make her resemble a boy.  Then again, all those years in the hospital, all the while having a shoulder-length black mop, made her want to change, specifically for the better.  

_I suppose I could trim it.  After all, having long hair isn't a necessity for a girl anymore.  Some like it long, some like it short.  It could help my self-esteem or something_.  Wanda absently ran a hand through her locks as she thought, still mulling over the issue.  

**********************************************************************

In the common room, the young mutants and Regan continued to watch the soap opera, which she was now in total control of.  On the screen, one of the nurses was conversing with the doctor she was supposed to be in love with, but that was all about to change.  

"Oh Jim, I…" the nurse said, breaking off as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.  

"Here it comes!" Todd said, almost jumping up in down in anticipation.  

"Say it, Melanie!" the doctor said to the nurse.  He grabbed her and turned her to look at him.  "Say it!  Say—" 

"This is it!" Fred chirped, face full of hope at the man's next words.  

"—You can't resist low-rate car insurance!" the doctor finished.  

And everyone save Regan almost hit the floor in total astonishment.  Their mouths hanging wide open, they stared in disbelief at the television screen.  

"What the _hell_ is going _on here_?" Rogue demanded.  "Did the writers lose their minds?!" 

"I think we're about to find out," Evan said, pointing to the TV.  

Looking at the doctor, Melanie the Nurse said tearfully, "Oh Richard, if only it were that simple.  But the truth is…"  

"Here it comes!" Todd cried, forcing his hopes back up.  

Melanie the Nurse broke free of Richard the Doctor's grip and ran to the closet door, throwing it open—to reveal a large, angry-looking gorilla.  The animal shuffled out of the closet, grunting.  "I love Bobo here!" Melanie confessed to Richard.  "He's never betrayed me like you did, when you started brainwashing my mother into leading an army of savages on a mission to blacktop the rainforests of Virginia!" 

As if to prove the said mother had been put through such treatment, the closet door opened and a middle-aged woman stepped through, wearing attire that looked like something out of a _Tarzan_ flick.  

"This can only get worse," muttered Fred.  

"You!" cried Richard the Doctor in horror.  "I thought I left you to die in the Evil Hair Salon!" 

"You did!" confirmed the Mother.  "But through a great stroke of fortune, I was helped in escaping—helped by this man!" 

Again, the closet door opened, but this newcomer was more unexpected than the other two combined.  

"No!" gasped Todd.  "I don't believe it!" 

"You and me _both_!" Rogue said, staring at the TV.  

"Aha!" said the latest newcomer to the soap opera.  "You did not expect my genius to stay dead, did you?"  

"No!" snarled Richard the Doctor.  "There's no way you can be him!  You're dead—Albert Einstein!" 

"I think my head is about to explode," Evan told the others.  "This is _way_ too confusing for me."  

"Ah, but I am alive!" declared Einstein.  "And so are you—Richard Nixon!" 

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Rogue groaned.  

Seemingly exposed for who he really was, Richard the Doctor pulled off his face, showing that it was a mask concealing his true identity.  

"Bah, humbug!" Nixon growled.  "You haven't won just yet, gramps!"  

"Can this _get_ any worse?" complained Evan.  

Laughing, Nixon pointed to the ceiling of the room he and the others were in on the show.  "I still have my secret ally!" 

A monstrous roar was heard, and the TV screen changed: Instead of showing a bunch of people in a room, it now showed a view from outside the hospital, with a very large creature towering over it.  

"Great," Rogue said.  "Richard Nixon's secret ally is Godzilla."  

"This show is making no sense," Todd said.  "What's happening, yo?" 

"I don't know," Fred answered, "but—Professor!" 

"But Professor?" repeated Evan, turning to see what Fred was talking about.  "Oh!  Professor Xavier!  We didn't see you there!" 

Xavier, apparently, had silently entered the room and seen what the soap had turned into, was currently giving Regan a disapproving sidelong look.  

"Very amusing, Regan," he said dryly.  "Now, kindly recall the illusion and come with me."  

Sighing dramatically, the blonde stood up, dispelling the illusion as she did so.  The others gasped in surprise as the TV's screen warped back to its rightful state.  

Xavier led Regan to his study, where Wanda was waiting for them.  The Professor had them sit down in front of his desk.  

"Now, you girls may have problems that have yet to be resolved, but I have chosen to work with you _here_ instead of Bayville Psychiatric Hospital.  You still pose a threat to human life, but neither I nor anyone else at my Institute will let you do something you would ultimately regret.  I mentioned before that I have problems with my daughter, Jean.  I know this may sound cold, as though you are nothing more than soldiers in a war, but I have pulled you from your places at the hospital to help me bring Jean back under control.  You see, she has become inconceivably dangerous—and not just to the Institute, but to the _entire world_."  

He stopped there, giving his words a few moments to sink in.  Both girls stared at him, and he could sense their shock.  Then again, who wouldn't be stunned to discover you were pulled from a hellhole to save the world?  It wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence.  

"What would helping you include, exactly?" Regan asked.  "Costumes?" 

Xavier nodded, causing her to raise her eyebrows.  "Costumes for any action, as well as training and codenames."  

"Like what?" Wanda asked, finally speaking up.  

"Well, they may not sound very good, but we can work on them," Xavier admitted.  "For you, Wanda, we've come up with the Scarlet Witch."  Turning to Regan, he said, "And her fellow X-Man, Trickster."  

Regan felt her stomach lurch.  "How about no?  Trickster sounds far too gay for me."  

Xavier cocked an eyebrow.  "What do you suggest, then?" 

Smirking, she said, "Lady Mastermind."  

*********************************************************************

AUTHOR: Jeez, that took forever!  Unfortunately, some of the following chapters may take even _longer_, so be ready to wait!  

NEXT: Training begins for the newest members of the X-Men.  But with romance sparking between ranks—and groups—will the team live to recover the rogue Phoenix?  And when Magneto shows up to give the Brotherhood a little motivation to catch Phoenix for themselves, things get downright dangerous.  

READ N REVIEW! 


	16. Incentive

Altered Fates 

By Blackheart Syaoran 

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!  

TO Sandoz: No, Lucas won't exist, since I'm using the Ultimate version of Proteus.  And yes, there are plenty of angry, vengeful offspring.  

TO furygrrl: Probably a bad move this time, as this chapter is something of a set-up for the next one—which will be worth the wait, I assure you.  

TO ALL: Why aren't you reading _Ultimate X-Men #38_?  I shall curse you all if you do not!  (Just kidding).  

***********************************************************************

Chapter 16: Incentive 

"You know, I seriously thought you said 'Butt Professor' at first," Regan said to Evan as the two mutants strolled down the Institute's main hallway.  Scott was impatiently waiting for them to get in his car for the ride to school.  

"Tell me about it," the boy replied.  "I was thinking that was what Fred said, but then I saw the Professor sitting there, frowning at you."  

"I knew he was there the whole time."  

Evan was surprised.  "Really?"  

Nodding, Regan said, "Telepathy."  

"No duh?  Is that what you were doing to our minds yesterday?"  

Regan shook her head.  "No, that was ordinary illusion-casting.  It's a form of telepathy, but I can't really read minds or anything.  I can make your worst fear or most wonderful dream come to pretend life, but I can't scour your brain for information."  

Evan nodded understanding as they exited the Institute.  Scott was in the driver's seat as usual, looking very grim and gripping the steering wheel tight enough that he probably made a few more finger grooves.  Rogue sat in the passenger seat and Wanda right behind her, leaving just enough space for the last couple mutants to squeeze into the back with the probability-altering girl.  

Lance had already left a full ten minutes earlier, with Todd and Fred.  Regan hadn't asked why the mood today seemed to solemn, but if she had to guess, she'd say it involved Xavier's daughter, and it was entirely possible that Lance had been affected.  

_I could ask Wanda_, Regan considered.  The black-haired girl had spent some time with an unconscious Lance yesterday, so she might have heard a thing or two.  Then again, she might know nothing.  

Scott suddenly spoke up.  "When we get to school, you guys better behave yourselves."  

"We will," Rogue promised in an uninterested tone, not looking away from the road ahead.  

"I mean it," Scott told them.  "The Professor doesn't want you using your powers on humans.  It could expose us, and it'll disappoint him."  

"This coming from the very guy who trashed an entire floor during a fistfight with a teammate," Rogue commented dryly.  "Yeah, powerful stuff, people."  

Scott glared angrily at her but said nothing.  During the rest of the drive to the high school, Regan, Wanda, and Evan kept a quiet conversation going in the backseat, making sure as best the could not to disturb Scott.  

Arriving, the field leader of the X-Men parked in his designated spot and curtly exited the vehicle, leaving the others at a fast clip.  

"Come on," Rogue said to Wanda and Regan as they all got out of Scott's car.  "Principal Darkholme will have to give you your schedules before you can start classes."  

Wanda nodded while Regan merely shrugged, and they followed the Goth girl into the high school.  All the while, Regan was forced not to manipulate the humans with an illusion or two, reminded of what would happen if Professor Xavier found out.  

_He'd probably knock me for a loop with those psychic powers of his_, she thought with dread-laden certainty.  

Rogue led the two through a series of hallways, which were rather crowded with students milling about noisily, and into a room with an office at the far end.  Judging by the name and title on the door, it was none other than the principal.  

_What a name_, Regan thought.  _Darkholme, eh?  Weird_.  

Rogue turned to her new teammates.  "You two wait here," she instructed them.  "Professor Xavier told Principal Darkholme to expect me in case she has any questions."  

Nodding, the girls took seats by the window.  Rogue entered the office, immediately engaging in conversation with the waspish woman.  After a long ten minutes, the parasitic mutant emerged from the office, and the two new students were called in.  They took their seats in front of Principal Darkholme's desk, feeling slightly apprehensive.  

"Yes, here you two are," Darkholme said, taking some papers from her drawer.  "Xavier's latest newcomers.  Let's hope you are better behaved than the others.  I don't tolerate troublemakers in my school."  

"Don't worry," Regan said in a reassuring tone.  "We aren't troublemakers."  

"Good."  

"We're maniacs."  

Darkholme didn't seem to appreciate the joke.  "Whatever you are, it had better not be something that gets me angry.  I can be rather harsh on those who cross me."  Taking the papers she had gathered in hand, she held them out to the girls.  "These are your schedules, and I am certain that you can manage to find your ways around on your own."  

"Yes, ma'am," the girls said, though Regan put an annoying perkiness into her tone.  

Darkholme gave her a frown that would have given a crocodile shivers.  "Just get out of my office.  Now."  

The two girls promptly did so, with Regan snickering as she shut the door.  When they had gone, Darkholme smiled to herself.  

"This should be interesting," she murmured.  

"Yes, it should," a deep, almost diabolical voice agreed.  

Gasping, Darkholme whirled, expecting to see a very sinister silhouette gazing at her through her office window.  What she found, however, was nothing out of the ordinary, not even a student skipping class.  

"Don't worry, Mystique," the voice assured her.  "I won't be interfering with Xavier's charges anytime soon.  I actually came to talk about our own disciples."  

"And what of them?" Darkholme asked.  

"They—and you, incidentally—are not doing what needs to be done.  Save for the girl."  

"Well, of course _she'll_ do her job just fine.  I'm more worried about how everything will turn out.  You'd better not mess up, what with your ideas and all."  

"Once her mission is complete, we won't need to worry about the humans."  

And then he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.  

**********************************************************************

"Excuse me, but you're in the way," Regan informed the young man.  She had gone to her locker, intending to make sure it worked in case she happened to need it, but instead, she found some dumb blond guy in a football jacket.  The player was talking to some airhead cheerleader, and both were leaning on her locker.  

And Regan didn't like that.  

"Excuse me," Regan said again, louder, and got the boy's attention this time.  

He looked at her and asked curtly, "What?  You got a problem or something?"  

"Yeah, namely _you_ trying to meld yourself to _my_ locker."  

The boy sniffed.  "So go talk about lipstick or something.  Can't you see I'm busy?"  And with that, he resumed his inane chitchat.  

Frowning, Regan focused on the boy… 

"HEY!" someone snarled in a booming baritone.  

Duncan was abruptly grabbed by his jacket and shoved against the lockers.  Startled as anything, he looked at who was assailing him—and felt his crotch and leg go moist.  

A hulking, ugly guy was glaring malevolently at him, his murderous expression focused completely on the star football player.  Looking at the guy's arms, Duncan saw they were almost as thick as the rest of the attacker's body, which was rather huge.  

"I thought I told you to move, shrimp," the attacker growled.  

"What?" Duncan said.  "I didn't see you anywhere!  Some chick was standing here a sec ago and—"  

"Oh, so now I'm a _girl_, am I?" the bruiser asked.  

"No!" Duncan answered, even as his head filled with terrible ideas of what this guy would do to him.  "I didn't say that!  I said some girl was standing here and you weren't!"  

"The only girl I see is you, ya little turd!" the bruiser barked.  

"Please, don't hurt me!" Duncan begged, sounding like the coward Regan knew he was.  

"Why don't you go put on some lipstick or something?" the bruiser said, and tossed Duncan aside.  "And stay away from my locker, you little sneak!"  

"Yes, sir!" Duncan practically shrieked, and looked for the cheerleader, only to realize she had run away.  Wisely, he did the same.  

And when he had gone, Regan let the illusion vanish.  _God, I hate jocks_.  After making sure her combination worked, she made her way to her first class.  

*********************************************************************

"Now, class, what is the probability of pulling an ace, two kings, and two jacks?" Mr. Ott asked.  

Wanda could only stare.  _This is way too unfair_, she thought.  _I should be getting these kinds of questions right!  I control probability, for Pete's sake!_  

"Anyone?" the teacher asked.  

There was a brief silence, and then: 

"It's five out of fifty-two," said a distracted voice.  "Now can we move on to something more time-consuming?  I'm dieing of boredom here!"  

Mr. Ott frowned at the young man who had spoken, while Wanda glanced over at him.  He was a boy her age, rail-thin, with slicked-back hair that appeared to be silver in color.  

"Perhaps you don't find probability calculations challenging, Mr. Maximoff, but I assure you that they will play a huge part of your life," Mr. Ott said.  

Pietro only rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, like math will determine all things."  

_Pietro!_ Wanda thought heatedly.  _When I get my hands on you—!_  She stopped that train of thought, realizing that the Professor might be monitoring the use of her powers.  _Oh, who cares?  Regan's probably terrorizing some freshman out of their lunch money with her illusions_.  

Deciding that scaring her brother with her presence wouldn't earn her a bad mark at the Institute, Wanda worked her way to the end of class.  When the bell finally rang, she moved as fast as possible towards her brother.  Fortunately, he didn't seem to be in a hurry, so his powers weren't being used.  _Goody for me_, she thought wickedly.  

"Hello, brother," she said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  

She felt him go completely stiff in her grip, which tossed away any chance of him turning to face her.  Sighing, she walked around to his front side, taking in every drop of terror that covered his face.  

"Wanda…?" he squeaked pathetically.  

"And here I was wondering where my beloved family had gone," the raven-haired girl said almost conversationally.  "Where _is_ he, Pietro?" she demanded.  

"I don't know!" the speedster confessed, visibly cringing.  "He comes to me for stuff; I have no clue where he's hiding!  Honest!"  

"And what about your new friends?" Wanda asked, stepping up close to him.  "Your pals in the Brotherhood?  What do they know?"  

"I don't know!" he repeated.  "Maybe Mystique has some idea, but she wouldn't tell you!"  

"You expect me to believe that?" she demanded, but then was given the perfect reason why she should have confronted her brother in the halls.  

"Miss Maximoff, is there a problem you'd like to work out with me?" Mr. Ott asked.  

Glaring at the teacher and inwardly cursing his atrocious timing, she replied, "No, I was just leaving."  

_Now I've got no choice but to go_, she thought angrily.  "Don't stray far, Pietro," she warned the boy.  "I'll be hanging around."  

**********************************************************************

"Now who would have thought a cute little guy like you would share a chemistry class with a naughty little girl like me?" Regan asked Todd as she took her seat next to him.  

"Uh, God?" Todd replied, eliciting a laugh from the blonde.  

"Hey."  

"Yeah?" 

"Is this class, like, really hard or something?"  

"Only if you suck," he grinned.  "Which I do.  Masterfully, at that, yo."  

Regan laughed again, and Todd found himself liking that, very much so.  

"Hey, everybody!" one boy shouted, standing, incredibly, atop one of the room's desks.  "Wayne Zeevering's an idiot!"  

The other students burst into laughter, and a few even booed and hissed as the teacher, Mr. Gellner, dragged the shouter out into the halls for a scolding.  

"Yo, I think you might like this class," Todd said.  

"I hope so," Regan agreed.  "If not, I'll have to get revenge on everybody connected to it…including _you_."  

Todd's eyes threatened to bulge so far out of his head that they'd fall out, but a laugh from Regan calmed him down.  

"Y'know, you had me scared for a second there," Todd grinned.  "But you don't pull the wool over my eyes twice."  

And then she wiped his grin away.  

"Oh really, Todd 'the Toad' Tolanksy?!" a hideous creature demanded of him.  It was sitting where Regan sat, it had Regan's body, but its head…its head was a twisted, tightly stretched mask of pure evil.  Blazing orange eyes froze him in place while the horrific monstrosity opened its mouth, revealing row after row of pointed, hungry teeth— 

"AAAAH!" Todd screamed, leaping out of his seat and into the teacher's arms.  "IT'S GONNA EAT ME!"  

"Mr. Tolansky!" Mr. Gellner barked.  "Control yourself!  There is absolutely nothing wrong with Miss Wyngarde!"  

Todd looked to the girl and found, to his surprise, that she was perfectly normal.  Taking a deep breath, he got off the chemistry teacher and laughed nervously.  

"Sorry," he apologized.  "Musta been seein' things there."  

The older man groaned, already sensing a long period ahead of him.  

*********************************************************************

"Summers," Duncan Mathews greeted, coming over to Scott's table.  

"Duncan," the other boy returned, not looking at him.  

"Where's Jean?  She sick today?"  

"Something."  

Duncan frowned, not liking that reply.  "Either she is or she isn't, Scott.  Can't you just tell me?"  

"No."  

"Why?"  

"Because I don't want to."  

"Because you don't like me," Mathews concluded.  

"No, because it doesn't concern you.  Now leave me alone.  I feel like crap, and I don't need you making things worse."  

Duncan, though, didn't leave.  Instead, he pulled himself a seat and gave Scott a hard look.  "Look Summers, I don't care if you don't like it, but Jean and I kinda have a thing going on.  Just because you feel like the odd one out doesn't give you any right to not tell me if she's not feeling good."  

Scott abruptly looked at Duncan, and the football star was stunned by how angry he looked.  

"Not feeling good?" Scott repeated, seething with anger.  "You have no _idea_ what 'not feeling good' is, Mathews!  All you do is bully people you and your bonehead friends think of as losers!  You know what that makes you?  An even _bigger_ loser!  You're nothing but a thug!"  

Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but Scott jabbed a finger at him, continuing.  

"And then you go around acting like there's nothing wrong with you, or what you do, and you fully expect people to kiss your ass like some kind of messiah!  Well, you know what?  You may sucker people all the time with your pathetic good looks and your worthless sports record, but that doesn't mean jack to people who judge others by what they're like on the inside!  

"But you will _not_ be using me, or Jean, or any of my friends, you got me?  The next time I see you so much as looking impassively at Todd Tolansky, I will hand you your _ass_, you hear me?"  

For a long moment, Duncan stared at Scott, completely taken off-guard.  He had expected Summers to be angry about the fact that Jean Grey liked him better, but he hadn't thought something like this would happen.  The bespectacled boy had almost gone nuclear!  

"Sure," was all Duncan could say when his vocal chords began working again.  

"_What the devil is going on here?_" Principal Darkholme demanded, storming over.  "Summers, Mathews, the cafeteria is _not_ a shouting match arena!  I want the both of you in my office, immediately, for a nice, long lecture on discipline.  And then we'll discuss your punishments."  

For a long moment, Scott simply stared at Darkholme, his eyes blazing with hate behind his glasses.  

"Is there a problem with what I said, Mr. Summers?" Darkholme asked, her arrogant tone only making him angrier.  

"Go hang yourself, you witch," he spat, and stalked past her, his shoulder shoving hers back as he brushed past.  

Darkholme's jaw hung low as she watched him leave, and then, recovering, she turned to glare at the rest of the students, who were watching the scene like a Shakespearean play.  

"What are you all looking at?" the woman demanded.  "Get back to eating!"  

Cautiously, Duncan spoke up.  "Uh, Ms. Darkholme, do I still have to go to your office?"  

Her expression was all the answer he needed.  

*********************************************************************

"You look good when you run," Wanda complimented.  

"Thanks," Lance said, perhaps a little more gruffly than he intended.  "You're pretty good yourself."  

Smiling, Wanda asked, "You really mean that?"  On the inside, she felt her hopes rising.  She hadn't yet mustered the courage to tell Lance that she had a major crush on him.  

"Yeah.  Especially for someone who got out of the loony bin not long ago.  They can hold you there till doomsday, you know?"  

Wanda smiled a little.  "Uh, thanks…I think."  

There was a pause, and then Lance said, "Look, I'm hoping you won't react bad to this, but I can tell you like me."  

Wanda stared at him, rather surprised she had been figured out so easily.  Fumbling her words for a moment, she replied, "What makes you think that?"  

"For one thing, I keep feeling like someone other than the Professor is watching me.  Secondly, Ororo told me that you were paying extra close attention to me when I was knocked out after the whole problem with the Brotherhood in the warehouses."  

"Oh," she said, and suddenly her hopes were plummeting.  

"But, look, I'll be honest with you.  I like this other Jean, but because she and Scott are kinda infatuated, and because of this whole 'Phoenix' thing, my chances at romance are pretty much shot to crap.  Anyway, if you want to make nice with me, go ahead.  Only live once, right?"  

Smiling brightly, Wanda agreed.  "Yeah, and why not live for the moment, especially after living for much longer than that, right?"  

Nodding, Lance said yes.  

"So, where should we get together or whatever you call it?" Wanda asked.  "I have zero dating experience."  

"I pretty much got the same.  I guess we could, I dunno, go to that new pizza parlor.  You can eat that stuff any time of the day."  

"Yeah, I know."  

***********************************************************************

Training for the latest additions to the X-Men took place after Lance and Wanda had gotten back, since Xavier insisted they be present to receive as much training as possible.  The session was held in the Danger Room, as usual, with Moira and Xavier in the control room.  

"Now, we're going to start out light for you," Xavier informed the young mutants.  "Cyclops, I want you to use your powers on the holographic wall in front of you.  Scarlet Witch, you will divert your energies to canceling out Cyclops's blast as much as possible.  Rogue, you are to attack Lady Mastermind while she defends herself.  Is that clear?"  

"Yes, Professor," Cyclops called upwards, while Regan frowned at her "uniform."  

_What_ were _these people thinking?_ she wondered, frowning at her garb.  It was a dark blue outfit much like Spyke's, but with gloves and without the shoulder pads.  All things considered, she would have looked—and felt—better if she were in her underwear.  

"Begin."  

Cyclops instantly opened fire upon the holographic wall, which slowly began to wear down under the optical assault.  Focusing, Wanda raised her hands, pointing at where the energy beam made contact with the hologram.  

For several moments, nothing happened.  And then… 

"Come on," Wanda groaned, gritting her teeth and willing the impossible to become possible.  

Slowly, the energy beam began to back away from the wall, as though it was hitting an invisible barrier.  The distance between the wall and the beam's end increased more and more, with Wanda's stamina diminishing rapidly as it did so.  Her bones felt like they were being crushed without painkillers, and her muscles started to spasm; the attempt was taking more out of her than she would have liked.  

"YAGH!" she gasped, and the entire beam fractured, dispersing into thin air.  

"Whoa," Cyclops said, amazed.  With a grin, he turned to Wanda.  "That's some really cool—Wanda!"  

He hadn't realized she'd collapsed until he looked at her; he'd been so focused on his own task.  Dropping to a knee, he put his hands on her shoulders.  

"Wanda, are you all right?" he asked worriedly.  

"I'll be fine," she said weakly.  "It wasn't as easy as I thought, that's all.  Don't worry about me."  

He nodded, and looked to Rogue and Regan, who were undergoing their own endeavor… 

**********************************************************************

Rogue dove at Regan, ready to tap the girl's powers and claim a quick victory, when a door sprung up between them.  Slamming on the brakes, Rogue frowned at the portal, and then grabbed the doorknob, opening the door—only to find herself staring into a hallway.  

_What in blazes?_ she wondered, and started down the hallway.  Something smelled real bad, but Rogue couldn't put her finger on it.  

"Feeling lost, Rogue?" Regan's voice asked, seemingly from everywhere.  "All you have to do is pick a door and leave.  It's as simple as that."  

Rogue snorted.  "But not as easy, right?"  

"Is it ever?  Just pick a door and be done with it."  

Scowling, Rogue kicked open a door, revealing another hallway of doors.  _What is this?_ she wondered, and then kicked open the door next to it, finding another hallway of doors.  _Is this some sick joke?_  

"Of course it is, Rogue," Regan replied.  "It's a sick joke from a sick joker's mind.  Don't bother trying to wreck the place or anything; my mind is stronger than yours."  

"You going to let me out of here?" Rogue asked curtly.  "This is only a training session; the Professor doesn't want anyone to get hurt."  

"Sure, sure," Regan replied, but sounding distracted.  "What's this?  Seems you have a dirty little secret you're harboring, Rogue.  Care to share with me?"  

"Let me out!" Rogue demanded.  

The next instant, however, she was on her hands and knees, clutching her head.  

"What are you…doing?" she gasped.  

"Forcefully learning just what you're hiding from everyone.  I _will_ find out—"  

***********************************************************************

"—What it is?" Regan finished, looking around at the Danger Room.  Her illusion, it seemed, had been canceled out by something.  

Or someone.  

"Regan, I'd like to talk with you about involuntary telepathy, in my office, now," Professor Xavier said stiffly.  

Regan said nothing, simply fixing the man with an irritated look.  Scott decided to speak up then.  

"Professor, I think that's enough for the night."  

"Yes," Xavier sighed, and turned to the young mutant.  "With the exception of Regan, you can retire for the night if you wish.  This session is over."  

***********************************************************************

"Two new students!" Mystique growled, pacing back and forth in the Brotherhood's living room.  "Xavier's recruiting even more charges, and we're not at all up to our own full strength!"  

Snarling, she slammed a fist against the doorframe and began pacing again.  Irene "watched" her friend with patience, knowing already what was to happen that night.  

"You had best calm yourself, Raven," she advised.  "You will need to be ready."  

"For what, Irene?" Mystique demanded.  

"Tonight."  

Mystique halted her pacing and turned to face her friend, a wary expression on her face.  "What are you talking about?" she asked.  

"We are going to be paid a visit from someone very significant.  You should get ready."  

The words had barely left her mouth when the room began shaking.  Looking around, Mystique tried to deduce what was going on.  

"Is this some sort of attack by Xavier?" she asked Irene.  "The Alvers boy can cause earthquakes."  

"Whoa!  What's happening?" Pietro asked, dashing into the room.  "The shower started going crazy and I jumped out!  Looks like this room's getting the same treatment!"  

"I'll say!" Kitty agreed as she and Kurt dropped through the ceiling.  "Mystique, what's going on?"  

"I don't know!" the metamorph answered, and then ducked as the TV set flew at her head.  "Everyone, outside!"  

The gang of mutants made for the door, but as they entered the hall, wires, circuits, and pipes burst into sight, reaching for them.  

"What the hell?" Pietro yelped, narrowly avoiding a noose of phone line.  "It's like a metal-laced nightmare in here!"  

"Wait a minute!" Kitty said.  "That's it!  All this stuff is metal!"  

"Do you mean to tell me—?" Mystique began, but was cut off.  

"That _I_ am responsible for this destruction?  Indeed, Raven Darkholme," said the rolling baritone of Magneto.  

"What are you doing here?" Mystique demanded, stalking towards the ominous Master of Magnetism as he descended the stairs and jabbing a finger at him.  "You have no right to destroy my house!"  

A cold expression on his face, Magneto replied, "I do when my minions are not fulfilling their duties."  

"What are you talking about?"  

"My plans cannot advance without young Miss MacTaggert, Mystique.  She is out there in the world, doing God knows what, and despite my considerable resources, I am unable to find her on my own."  

"That _really_ tells us why you're tearing our home apart," Mystique replied sarcastically.  

"I am giving you an incentive, Raven.  Find Phoenix or I will pay a final visit."  

"What do you think we are?" Kitty asked.  "Miracle workers?"  

"For this task, you had better be."  

The extracted innards of the house moving out of his way, Magneto once again left the Brotherhood house.  

Looking around at the destruction, Pietro asked, "All right, who wants to call the repair people this time?"  

********************************************************************

AUTHOR: Short, I know, but I really wanted to get this one out of the way.  I promise the next chapter will more than make up for it.  

NEXT: The chapter you've all been waiting for!  The X-Men and Brotherhood battle against the renegade Phoenix, in what may be the most difficult fight of their lives—save for the one they'll get with Proteus in the sequel!  But can the mutants defeat Phoenix, especially when she's put them in the confines of their own private hells?  


End file.
